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Intro/Chorus: |
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E-Swift Welcome to the next level |
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The L-I-K- |
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S, what makes them motherfuckers so damn fresh |
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Verse One: |
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J-Ro Youse a nigga everybody diss cause you can't bust this |
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You got a bad name like |
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Dick Butkis |
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Welcome to the next level, of rhyme flowin |
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Scratchin, hookin up beats, and hoe catchin |
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Everytime |
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I come home, |
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I got fifty messages |
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I only call back the girls with big big breasteses |
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Ooh, I got bitties, in all the major cities |
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The safest way to have sex is right between her (tittes) |
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I beeped this fillie from |
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Philly, we was puffin on a phillie |
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She started actin silly, so |
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I popped her like a willie |
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I'm like Kukamunga, |
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I'm way out |
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And you know |
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I got the flow that'll never play out |
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I was raised in |
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Cali just like a palm tree |
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I rock the mic from |
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London to the |
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Mohabi Tash |
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Diamond D and the |
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Ro to the |
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J Amazing feats happen when we come out to play |
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Chorus Verse |
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Two: Diamond |
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D Out the funk bag of tricks |
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Just for kicks, |
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I represent with the |
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Liks So here's the vicks, |
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I'm hittin harder than a brick |
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Tricks get slick, and face the dick real quick |
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You better recognize, adjust your bifocals |
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Your style is local, |
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I sit on beats in |
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Acupulco I put words together like |
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Peter Jennings |
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And skate on motherfuckers like |
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Peggy Flemming |
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So woah to those who owe |
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From one oh four five six to nine oh two one oh |
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I'm sippin on pina colada |
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Two blocks off |
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La Seneca, at the |
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Ramada But hold up, |
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I'm not done yet |
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I get hard like the perm pimps wear on |
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Sunset So recoginize when you feel it |
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DITC, you can't steal it, aight |
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Chorus (Tash) |
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My men, my men |
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Chorus Verse |
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Three: Tash, |
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E-Swift For all my niggaz in the places with blunts in they faces |
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Off the two turntables with the anvil cases |
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It's the L- |
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I-K's that blaze and amaze that [Gots to roll deep] in these crazy-ass days |
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Bu the Alkaholik rhymer, |
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King Tee and |
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Diamond D |
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Got the gats pointed at ya like we're to round three |
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Cause nineteen ninety-four is the year we overdo it |
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With the house party beats and flowin like fluid |
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Cause ain't nothin too but to do that shit and print it |
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But it's all about the loot so every move is documented |
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Coolin out with your bitch eatin sweet and sour chicken |
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Exceeing Visa limits if the tab's on you |
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I get drunk and reminesce about the shit |
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I used to do |
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We used ta, take out crews as a hobby after two in the lobby |
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Me, Mike D, and my beatbox |
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Robby Sendin kids back to the lab for more practice |
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The only way they'd win, if we battled to see who's the wackest |
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Ten years later, still a hip-hop slave |
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A prehistoric b-boy makin beats in my cave |
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The L-I-K- |
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S, what makes them motherfuckers so damn fresh |
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It's the, liquid flows that we spillin on ya |
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Broadcastin live from |
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Southern California, and we out |
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Chorus |
