|
|
Download Now!!!
Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Lyrics:
Mic check, mic check
One (one), two (two), three (three) Too many rappers, and there's still not enough MCs It goes three (three), two (two), one (one) MCA, Adrock, Mike D, that's how we get it done Like ladies and gents, attention Nas in the house with Beastie Boys We can turn it out Perpetrators, we can point 'em out So if you got somethin' on your mind, let it out
Yo, I been in the game since before you was born I might still be MCing even after you're gone Strange thought, I know, but my skills still grow The 80s, the 90s, 2000s, and so On and on until the crack of dawn Until the year 3000 and beyond Stay up all night, and I MC and never die Cause death is the cousin of sleep
Because I'm back with a bang, boogie, oogie-oogie Strawberry Letter 23 like Shuggie Oh my God, just look at me Grandpa been rappin' since '83 I'm supersonic like J.J. Fad Got crazy-ass shit pullin' out the bag Don't forget the tartar sauce, yo, cause it's sad All these crab rappers, they're rappin' like crabs
I have carte blanche, the vagabond Nas is the narcissist, my pockets are rotund I'm no killa, but compared to you, I'm more real'a You ain't a shot, a mobster, or a drug dealer A slug peeler, you're not Mafioso, no You ain't got the cut-throat in ya, beginner I ain't tryin' to hear your racket You work with police, dog, you snitch, you rat You wear that jacket
How many rappers must get dissed Gimme eight bars, and watch me bless this I start to reminisce, ooh, when I miss The real hip hop with which I persist Like rum in mojitos Bullets and banditos Matzoh balls in soup Jackets and troop Yes, y'all, this is one for the history books Nasty Nas, what's the word? Count it off on the hook
One (one), two (two), three (three) Too many rappers, and there's still not enough MCs It goes three (three), two (two), one (one) MCA, Adrock, Mike D, that's how we get it done Like ladies and gents, attention Nas in the house with Beastie Boys We can turn it out Perpetrators, we can point 'em out So if you got somethin' on your mind, let it out
Cause this the type of lyric goes inside your brain To blow you bullshit rappers straight out the frame My lyrics spin 'round like a hurricane twister So get your hologram on off-a Wolf Blitzer Too many rappers to shake a stick at I oughta charge a tax for every weak rap I had to listen to Cause we be makin' stacks like Stax Records My squad, we gotta pact -- we're never coming wack
To all you crab rappers and hackers And circuit benders tweaked on Splenda I take the cake, I stole the mold The golden microphone, well, that's mine to hold And why all these biters all up in my crotchspace? Sniffin', buffin', huffin' And mean muggin' with a Blimpie Bluffin Back up off me, suckas, you ain't sayin' nothin'
I'm broader than Broadway, I was the project hallway Dual tape recorder, lacin' oratorials all day I'm just getting started on this beat, this is foreplay And when this song's finished, y'all can sing along with this By the way, I have a strong fetish for Christian Louboutin steppers I hear Russian blonde's the wettest But anyway, I better pay homage to my fellas And that's what's on my mind and the rhyme, who's next up?
Mike D, the man of mystery History in the makin', and now we're takin' Titles, awards, and accolades Scarin' the competition as I sharpen my blades We come together like peanut butter and sandwiches Like pen and paper, like Picasso and canvases Rockin' stadiums and shitty bars Go back in time, send a fax from my car
One (one), two (two), three (three) Too many rappers, and there's still not enough MCs It goes three (three), two (two), one (one) MCA, Adrock, Mike D, that's how we get it done Like ladies and gents, attention Nas in the house with Beastie Boys We can turn it out Perpetrators, we can point 'em out So if you got somethin' on your mind, let it out
Download Now!!!
|
Copyright © 2020 Zortam.com. All Rights Reserved.
|