- Nov 20, 2007
- 90,606
- 55,216
Code:
You heard of the rasp before but kept waitinfor the sun of song, I keep dancehalls strongBeats never worthy of my cause, I prolongExtravangza, time sits stillNo propoganda, be wary of the skillAs I bring forth the music, make love to your eardrumDedicated to rap !*+** beware of the fearsomeLebanon Don, Malcolm X beat threatCD massacre, murder to cassetteI blow the shop up, you ain't seen nuttin yetOne man ran, tryin to get away from itPut your bifocal on, watch me a-comethinto your chamber like Freddy enter dreamDiscombumberate your technique and your schemeFour course applause, like a black dat to datYou're stuck on stupid like I'm stuck on the mapNowhere to go except next show broEntertainin !#!$*%!*#$!+@ can't stop Oin battlin, you don't want me to start tattlinAll upon the stage cause y'all snakes keep rattlin@#+%#, you ain't got nothin on the richEvery other day my whole dress code switchSo just in case you want to clock me like SherryAll y'all crab @+%*+!% ain't got to worryCan't get a !*+** like Don dime a dozenEven if I'm smoked out I can't be scoped outI'm too ill, I represent Park HillSee my face on the twenty dollar billCash it in, and get ten dollars backThe fat LP with Cappachino on the waxPass it in your think, put valve up to twelvePut all the other LP's back on the shelfAnd smoke a blunt, and dial 9-1-71-6-0-4-9-3-11And you could get long $!!$ hip-hop affectionI damage any MC who step in my directionI'm Staten Island's best son $!$$ what you heard$$+$%$ still talkin that *!#$ is absurdMy repotoire, is U.S.S.R.P.L.O. style got thrown out the carand ran over, by the Method Man jeepDivine can't define my style is so deeplike $*%@!, my low cut fade stay bushylike a porcupine, I part backs like a spineCut you like a blunt and reconstruct your designI know you want to diss me, but I can read your mindCuz you weak in the knees, like SWVTryin to get a title like Wu Killa BeeKid change your habit, you know I'm friends with the AbbottMe and RZA ridin name printed in the tabletunder vets, we paid our debts for mad yearsHibernate the sound, and now we out like beersand blunt power, born physically power speakinThe truth in the song be the pro-black teachin You can skip to 2:45. I really don't know what else to say
