Lyrics

F/ F.T., Mike Zoot, Organized Konfusion [El Da Sensei] Yo yo yo, huh hah Smooth diff' in this, y'all know what's goin on with this right here Yo it's Shawn J., bust it It's goin down like that El Da Sensei hah, for the '9-8 F.T., Mike Zoot, Prince Po' huh, Pharoahe Monch The Frontline, huh You don't know what's up with this, uhh uhh You don't know what's up with this Doin drama like dis do', yo check it out check it out My vendetta in this form of musical song Is to enlighten and brighten the mind through instrument and rhyme And fix those inadequate flows that don't adapt Makin snacks on wax plates for DJs to scratch [Pharoahe Monch] Fast slash, cross hatch slash, cross patch Every word of mine will be verbally so tight to match That or that I hit you harder than Caterpillar trucks In the lab where we collaborate or matter will erupt [Mike Zoot] From a, music martyr, bust mortar, break the order Torch your sound texture, fire water's in my aura Your future forefather, your new wave slave wrapped in chains and amulets And hard to earn assets [F.T.] Yo, niggas game playin but not name sayin My aim's sprayin, I get mine that's why you stay waitin And vacatin, whether you know it or not, I'ma blow up the spot If you owe me a lot, I'ma show up with Glocks [Prince Poetry] And you're still wet, pull up your socks, suspend the art Sizzle like woks, underground spots, from the city to the boondocks Bounce, double wishbone suspension like shocks Multiple plans and plots, word [Chorus - all] You know we shine with rhymes all the time Keep in mind don't test these MCs who bless (Word) Test these MCs You know we shine with rhymes all the time Keep in mind don't test these MCs who bless (Word) Test these MCs (Word what ugh) Test these MCs [El Da Sensei] I spit fire satire, indeed bleed, phenomenal demographics Broadcast my rhyme forecast to eager addicts Pave a path many can't outlast Who these cats who blast gats rehearsin lines for a movie cast? But as a centrail, blaze the track engage Instamatic sporadic insight pays for days With their sickening floss, flip on tracks like Dominique Dawes Pause, date back, flows is gettin flashback [Pharoahe Monch] My existence, spirits in animated film, Three-dimensionally roller scoped With cloakin devices, skates, stoges and a motor boat I hold the Pope for ransom, it's The handsomest, assassinatin Satan, Leavin the world Marilyn Manson-less I'm in the streets like Sesame The recipe - to kill, attain da mil/DeMille like Cecille B. The rest'll be the aftermath, the most got statistics Pharoahe Monch, Steve Post about to lift it [Mike Zoot] I gotta get mine, give it back so you can get yours [Prince Poetry] I gotta get mine, give it back so you can get yours [Mike Zoot] I gotta get mine, give it back so you can get yours Yo yo UHH WHAT I'm leavin your staff mated, makin these crabs hate it I lotta fags rate it and thought I got stagnated I'm not some rap nigga that you're dyin to meet Just another hungry brother real hungry and tryin to eat And in the streets you better rely on your feet Babies is feelin iron, cryin to sleep Plus the government is supplying the heat They goin psychotic in prison cos of the economic additions Plus sex and drugs in the bleachers [F.T.] 3-4 come up, run up in beefcake gun butt-ups Crush truck chains, the wirey gold frames Chains sums up, the dollars, white collar, blue Range Eat my dust up, ten in the bucket in the left lane gainin momentum Cum sendin comers, fair game, a lot of sumtin sumtin All in or nothin, silence the sufferin Can't stand the strugglin, some resume games to stain jugglin I muscled in and scribbled my name [Prince Poetry] Belittle your brain, the true grain riddle your frame Got you forfeitin the bitch by the middle of the game Hostile, impossible to stop below the free Buck em down, shook em nothin at the top of the key Prince, I'm nippatant, magnificent moves, strategic Smash joints, leavin the track paraplegic Repeat it for those who need it, niggas catch the vibe Fish 'n grits, hot sauce, forever embedded inside Chorus [Mike Zoot - Outro] What, ugh, yo, yeah come on, yeah yeah By my nigga El Da Sensei, Mike Zoot, ynahI'msayin? Okay, F.T., Guesswhyld I gotta fresh style
Writer(s): William Williams Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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