Montego Slay

We tackle rhymes like your life lays time We trying to get enough, we gotta fill up Before it's all gone the song remains on Until the beat stops Never mind, no need to remind You know who we be, yo it's the capital G's Putting the P's in hip hop Saying, hi to the hoes who wear hardly any clothes He is looking at you Watching you, watching me, the incredible MC Chicks call me Mikey (Why's that?) 'Cause I like it, they stare when I'm digging it And know they wanna try They like the way I rap, they like the way I chill Couple hours in a conversation, show 'em how I thrill I'm a one minute man, I lick it then split it Empty it out, fill it in like the blank and I'm out Big Mike, that's right, give 'em something they can feel Yo, I'm the top-ranked chief on the wheels of steel I walk the streets of LA and feel comfortable Me and the homie make music And they come in with bullets, so next time You got a rhyme that's blazing hot, throw it away People under to save the day Sometimes it ain't timed, sometimes it can't be This time we kick back and let your conscience be free The music is playing loud and we never have to leave We never gotta leave (We never gotta leave) Beautiful brown skin lady, ya move something Montego bay style, smile from the Caribbean isle No fronting while we pumping the beat Audiophiles that jump in like I light up the seat With the complete file scooters and 45s, the palm trees Red stripe nights, the calm breeze The type to relax, ease back to conceive wax And contact the origin of habitat Two cats making it fat, it's like that With a rap similar to a pitter pat of a cat Walking the roof to make it back to the truth I dig crates for the late great existence of black plates To booming the eighths on the floor Thinking you want more Leaving my mark like a doc mart on a wood floor It's good for the soul like dinner with your moms People under the stairs, the duo who drop bombs Snares laid back like armchairs Hit the beach I'm outta reach So play my CD and let it teach the recipe Half B. Crocker, half David T Walker fresh breath control like Binaca Sometimes it ain't timed, sometimes it can't be This time we kick back and let the conscience be free The music is playing loud and we never have to leave We never gotta leave (We never gotta leave)