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Before the dough came, my whole aim, was blow like propane |
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Control the whole domain, and then show no shame |
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Make rappers go [unverified] and they so lame, playin' with no game |
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Put 'em on the lil plane 'til they can't claim no fame |
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I got, the range, better, stay in the slow lane |
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I make the flow change from hurricanes to a slow rain |
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Your thoughts are so plane, I rearrange your whole frame |
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Until my whole name grow out your brain like Romaine |
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Letter by letter, I put words together |
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Once merged, apart never, they be heard forever |
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And then I grab a pen and stab him in his abdomen |
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And smash him in, throw his mic like a javelin |
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Then I explain verses, that remain on the surface |
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At times it get deep, but I never defeat the purpose |
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Never go out, to go the dough route, forever hold out |
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I never sold out, for any amount, no doubt |
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That's how I get down, so tell me how you like that |
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I hit the town, hold it down on a tight track |
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I start a party now everybody like rap |
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Haters are mad 'cause they gave the R the mic back |
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That's how I get down, so tell me how you like that |
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I hit the town, hold it down on a tight track |
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I start a party now everybody like rap |
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Haters are mad 'cause they gave the R the mic back |
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I like to hang where e'rythang seem to happen at |
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(Y'know?) |
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It's Ra's habitat, I'm like that czar Arafat |
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And yes I have a gat, snap like a Israeli |
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A terrorist I never miss blowin' up kids daily |
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I step to writers, and let my virus hurt the closest |
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I'm sick as hepatitis and worse than tuberculosis |
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Pull out a pen, like a grenade, and drop it quick |
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I strike again and I'ma get paid, exotic shit |
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You know the God ra be, hot as the Mojave |
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Swing like King Usabi, my posse be kamikaze |
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On the corners like I'm homeless and I, don't know where home is |
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The bonus, is where the next open microphone is |
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Me and my team, vision like a radar screen |
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Intervene and yo, cut the mic off, 'cause Ra fiend |
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To show the whole world some of the things I seen |
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Then blow it up, like Edi Amin, yaknahmean? |
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That's how I get down, so tell me how you like that |
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I hit the town, hold it down on a tight track |
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I start a party now everybody like rap |
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Haters are mad 'cause they gave the R the mic back |
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I do a thang thang, I write the songs they sing |
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Make sure that they swing, from New York to Beijing |
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Put your thoughts in the sling and your brain is gangrene |
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Pull in the ring, repeatin' and sayin' the same thing |
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Xerox, zero, no match, you ditto |
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Copy machine, couldn't reprint my [unverified] |
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My new style, that I produce now's beyond two-thou' |
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I knew how, since a juvenile, to make a ka-pow |
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When the night's fallin', I can hear the mic callin' |
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I like ballin', I cut back like Mic Jordan |
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This is for y'all while I'm spittin' literatures |
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Lyrics'll ball like Allen Iverson dribble the ball |
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They hopeless, whoever approaches my high explosives |
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My vision sadicious, and freestyle's ferocious |
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I wrote this, words flew over my head like a locust |
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I turned the beat up, sat back, and stayed focused |
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That's how I get down, so tell me how you like that |
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I hit the town, hold it down on a tight track |
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I start a party now everybody like rap |
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Haters are mad 'cause they gave the R the mic back |
