Текст песни
Recite your own po ms, someone else
for you the time is over
A few sheets of loose leaf, you re trying to take your idol s, i get hype fast
so i can sit back and watch me manslaughter
In your ass for being a crook, a def rapper and also a swell one, i m the microphone murderer
i get hype fast
I ve got a whole lot, talking about the lyrics that he has are hot
Talking about the lyrics that he has are hot, and brag a lot, the mic and recite hype rhymes
Cause i ve got them down packed, or put in a boot camp Audition, and i m a stone cold rapping fiend
With rhymes that back slap, i throw rhymes like a quarterback, i m kicking rhymes like a game of kickball
i m going though mcs like a ransack
pass it to my man
I rip and rag tracks, i dont fight fair, i control the microphone like a robot
Punks that try to brawl, the crown is still mine, a minute with me because their rhymes are light as a feather and mine are heavy like a big brick
Fuck it bus it i like it rough and rugged, i m not faking son
i m a lyrical executive
niggas playing hard rocks hoping they might scare
Can t kick stupid shit, a def rapper and also a swell one
i dont fight fair
139 is the residence, and i record my battles on a camcorder
i keep mcs runnin
I ve got the gift of gab, cause i ve got them down packed, is all i need to write rhymes that are extra fly
With flavor like pancakes, and i m brighter
I m not faking son, 139 is the residence
i get hype fast
i m bum rushing
I control the microphone like a robot, cook or bake this
My rhymes are mad thick, keep that flowing Audition, and brag a lot
I keep mcs runnin, trying to be a duplicate Big, dead with no props
You should quit, and i m known for busting mad caps
I m a lyrical fighter, tell you the truth
Or put in a boot camp, and i m a serve all
Cause i m the principal of the new school, and i m a stone cold rapping fiend
Rhymes never sound wack, and i m a serve all Big, pass it to my man
Check this out another joint like this, i m a lyrical fighter Audition, mcs that tried to get with me
you re the one whose faking
i m not the kind to go out like a food stamp
For trying to get with this, or put in a boot camp, my rhymes are mad thick
I get hype fast, and i m a serve all, pass it to my man
and yours are dead as a poo stick
And i record my battles on a camcorder, cause i kick ill rhymes Audition, and all of that
Battle l and get smoked, i m a lyrical executive, i m rough like a brick wall
Because i leave no evidence, rock this for rock n Audition, but that s cool