Ain't U da Masta 歌词
| 歌曲 | Ain't U da Masta |
| 歌手 | Masta Ace |
| 专辑 | SlaughtaHouse |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Clear, Ellis, Glover | |
| Here come the jams, yo punks, guard your domes | |
| It's the man with the mad new styles and funky poems | |
| So strike one, strike two, strike three, you're out | |
| Of luck, jack, fuck that, grab your nuts and shout | |
| (ain't you the masta?) yep, i've always been | |
| And then, i'm a stab a fucking critic with his pen | |
| So write that, put that in your magazine and stick it | |
| I'm wicked, just like a witch when i kick it | |
| So break out your charts and scales and try to rate me | |
| Give me a one, son, yep i hope you hate me | |
| Cause i'm a keep on bringing it, i'm swinging it | |
| Sharp like glass til your punk ass is swinging it | |
| Riff-raff, your whole damn staff i have to cut up | |
| I drop bombs, i'm fatter than your moms, so what up? | |
| I come from the planet of raps on, oh yeah | |
| Beam me up steady, there's no skills down here | |
| So there, you little punk sitting in your chair | |
| Soon you're gonna know the score kids, i swear | |
| (ain't you the masta?) yep, i'm the masta (repeat 4x) | |
| I hits you hard kids, you're barred from the mic and | |
| Rhymes kick like pele, rough like a dyke and | |
| Praise me, masta, off beat, the healer | |
| Rap style's deisel like an 18-wheeler | |
| So get that weak style out of my path | |
| I'm turbo, i drop lines long like nostran ave. | |
| So danger, i'm burning from monday to sunday | |
| I'm hot like some niggas 10 deep in a hyndai | |
| So make way, i drop mad heavy like the fridge | |
| I'm sacking, you're wack and you're over like the bridge | |
| This little rabbit tried to diss me, but fuck it | |
| I got duckets, one day that rabbit kicks the bucket | |
| You know (i know) you know (i know) | |
| You know, you know, well yo follow where i go | |
| Jane, stop this crazy thing if i sing | |
| Some love shit and dress mad fly, i'd be the king | |
| And be seen on the covers of like 27 books | |
| But i'm too proud to beg, so suck this, you crooks | |
| You're only as good as your last jam, it's true | |
| Your shit's new, everybody wants an interview | |
| But then, oh how quick they forget | |
| With no hit, they like "who's that?" they full of shit | |
| And straight up, my patience is starting to wear short | |
| I'm gonna land blows like your head was an airport | |
| Say cheese you theif, let me see your teeth | |
| Cause i'm ultra-magnetic, magnetic like kool keith | |
| So abra, cadabra, presto and change-o | |
| The off-beat, on-beat style is kinda strange yo | |
| It dops here, it drops there, it's off then it's on | |
| To the breaka, to the breaka, to the breaka of umm dawn | |
| Here i come with bones by the sack for | |
| Spraypaint, i tage my f-ing name on your back, punk | |
| (ain't you the masta?) yep, i'm the masta (repeat 4x) |
| zuo ci : Clear, Ellis, Glover | |
| Here come the jams, yo punks, guard your domes | |
| It' s the man with the mad new styles and funky poems | |
| So strike one, strike two, strike three, you' re out | |
| Of luck, jack, fuck that, grab your nuts and shout | |
| ain' t you the masta? yep, i' ve always been | |
| And then, i' m a stab a fucking critic with his pen | |
| So write that, put that in your magazine and stick it | |
| I' m wicked, just like a witch when i kick it | |
| So break out your charts and scales and try to rate me | |
| Give me a one, son, yep i hope you hate me | |
| Cause i' m a keep on bringing it, i' m swinging it | |
| Sharp like glass til your punk ass is swinging it | |
| Riffraff, your whole damn staff i have to cut up | |
| I drop bombs, i' m fatter than your moms, so what up? | |
| I come from the planet of raps on, oh yeah | |
| Beam me up steady, there' s no skills down here | |
| So there, you little punk sitting in your chair | |
| Soon you' re gonna know the score kids, i swear | |
| ain' t you the masta? yep, i' m the masta repeat 4x | |
| I hits you hard kids, you' re barred from the mic and | |
| Rhymes kick like pele, rough like a dyke and | |
| Praise me, masta, off beat, the healer | |
| Rap style' s deisel like an 18wheeler | |
| So get that weak style out of my path | |
| I' m turbo, i drop lines long like nostran ave. | |
| So danger, i' m burning from monday to sunday | |
| I' m hot like some niggas 10 deep in a hyndai | |
| So make way, i drop mad heavy like the fridge | |
| I' m sacking, you' re wack and you' re over like the bridge | |
| This little rabbit tried to diss me, but fuck it | |
| I got duckets, one day that rabbit kicks the bucket | |
| You know i know you know i know | |
| You know, you know, well yo follow where i go | |
| Jane, stop this crazy thing if i sing | |
| Some love shit and dress mad fly, i' d be the king | |
| And be seen on the covers of like 27 books | |
| But i' m too proud to beg, so suck this, you crooks | |
| You' re only as good as your last jam, it' s true | |
| Your shit' s new, everybody wants an interview | |
| But then, oh how quick they forget | |
| With no hit, they like " who' s that?" they full of shit | |
| And straight up, my patience is starting to wear short | |
| I' m gonna land blows like your head was an airport | |
| Say cheese you theif, let me see your teeth | |
| Cause i' m ultramagnetic, magnetic like kool keith | |
| So abra, cadabra, presto and changeo | |
| The offbeat, onbeat style is kinda strange yo | |
| It dops here, it drops there, it' s off then it' s on | |
| To the breaka, to the breaka, to the breaka of umm dawn | |
| Here i come with bones by the sack for | |
| Spraypaint, i tage my fing name on your back, punk | |
| ain' t you the masta? yep, i' m the masta repeat 4x |
| zuò cí : Clear, Ellis, Glover | |
| Here come the jams, yo punks, guard your domes | |
| It' s the man with the mad new styles and funky poems | |
| So strike one, strike two, strike three, you' re out | |
| Of luck, jack, fuck that, grab your nuts and shout | |
| ain' t you the masta? yep, i' ve always been | |
| And then, i' m a stab a fucking critic with his pen | |
| So write that, put that in your magazine and stick it | |
| I' m wicked, just like a witch when i kick it | |
| So break out your charts and scales and try to rate me | |
| Give me a one, son, yep i hope you hate me | |
| Cause i' m a keep on bringing it, i' m swinging it | |
| Sharp like glass til your punk ass is swinging it | |
| Riffraff, your whole damn staff i have to cut up | |
| I drop bombs, i' m fatter than your moms, so what up? | |
| I come from the planet of raps on, oh yeah | |
| Beam me up steady, there' s no skills down here | |
| So there, you little punk sitting in your chair | |
| Soon you' re gonna know the score kids, i swear | |
| ain' t you the masta? yep, i' m the masta repeat 4x | |
| I hits you hard kids, you' re barred from the mic and | |
| Rhymes kick like pele, rough like a dyke and | |
| Praise me, masta, off beat, the healer | |
| Rap style' s deisel like an 18wheeler | |
| So get that weak style out of my path | |
| I' m turbo, i drop lines long like nostran ave. | |
| So danger, i' m burning from monday to sunday | |
| I' m hot like some niggas 10 deep in a hyndai | |
| So make way, i drop mad heavy like the fridge | |
| I' m sacking, you' re wack and you' re over like the bridge | |
| This little rabbit tried to diss me, but fuck it | |
| I got duckets, one day that rabbit kicks the bucket | |
| You know i know you know i know | |
| You know, you know, well yo follow where i go | |
| Jane, stop this crazy thing if i sing | |
| Some love shit and dress mad fly, i' d be the king | |
| And be seen on the covers of like 27 books | |
| But i' m too proud to beg, so suck this, you crooks | |
| You' re only as good as your last jam, it' s true | |
| Your shit' s new, everybody wants an interview | |
| But then, oh how quick they forget | |
| With no hit, they like " who' s that?" they full of shit | |
| And straight up, my patience is starting to wear short | |
| I' m gonna land blows like your head was an airport | |
| Say cheese you theif, let me see your teeth | |
| Cause i' m ultramagnetic, magnetic like kool keith | |
| So abra, cadabra, presto and changeo | |
| The offbeat, onbeat style is kinda strange yo | |
| It dops here, it drops there, it' s off then it' s on | |
| To the breaka, to the breaka, to the breaka of umm dawn | |
| Here i come with bones by the sack for | |
| Spraypaint, i tage my fing name on your back, punk | |
| ain' t you the masta? yep, i' m the masta repeat 4x |
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