What They Call Me

For starters, peace to all the martyrs

And all the pioneers, cheers

Here's to a new breed of broad, yeah, we like it raw

Comin' to the floor, I be next to rep like Al Gore

Look up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane

Nope, honey from the Bricks, ya'll familiar with the name

I be worse than any Alien, Predator or Relic

Witch from the east, ****, tell 'em how to spell it

The R, the A, the H, the D

The I, the G, the G, the A (Come again)

The R, the A, the H, the D

The I, the G, the G, the A (Come again)

The R, the A, the H, the D

The I, the G, the G, the A (Come again)

The R, the A, the H, the D

The I, the G, the G, the A

I'm primetime, you a local on cable

I battle you on your shit and then waste your label

Hit you with heat sweeter than vanilla candy

Flip it type wicked like Cinderella family

(For what?) For tryna step to a Rah situation

Less rhymin' years, less formal education

Gettin' less spins than a BBS

Less hype in the streets and you write even less

(Now you ain't fresh) MC's goin' crazy

(Nah, you ain't fresh) Y'all could never out blaze me

Less know-how, more hoe now

Stay up out of grown folks biz 'fore I show you what broke is

Yappin' all day 'bout who crew the best

Take a few deep breaths, puff the buddha cess

Continue to bless any track that come this way

Nine ****, nine ****, I'm that itch be

The R, the A, the H, the D

The I, the G, the G, the A (Come again)

The R, the A, the H, the D

The I, the G, the G, the A (Come again)

The R, the A, the H, the D

The I, the G, the G, the A (Come again)

The R, the A, the H, the D

The I, the G, the G, the A

Peace to my peeps from Jerz to Manhattan

Bitches on the three way chit-chattin' in pig latin

Heads is vexed now, all the 'dro gone

Waitin' and debatin' for some **** to roll on

The kind of heads take the ghetto approach

Hard foul the opposition or strangle the coach

I be stashin' marijuana in my Dolce & Gabana

Dead 'em like gamma, if they don't have no manners

Call the dopest MC, my little junior

Playin' the game and be a coach like Tuna

Mad, what i say go, B-girl original

Boy wonder, Chocolate Latte

What the chicks say, hoes might oppose

But most chicks happy, I can rock without takin' off my clothes

And all the **** say damn, this bitch is tight

Ain't heard a broad rip like that since MC Lyte

The R, the A, the H, the D

The I, the G, the G, the A (Come again)

The R, the A, the H, the D

The I, the G, the G, the A (Come again)

The R, the A, the H, the D

The I, the G, the G, the A (Come again)

The R, the A, the H, the D

The I, the G, the G, the A

The R, the A, the H, the D

The I, the G, the G, the A (Come again)

The R, the A, the H, the D

The I, the G, the G, the A (Come again)

The R, the A, the H, the D

The I, the G, the G, the A (Come again)

The R, the A, the H, the D

The I, the G, the G, the A