| Those that’s bout it, M.C.'s I run with
|
| Those that doubt it, on the mic, get done quick
|
| Even if you left in intensive care
|
| I’ll have the plug pulled, before your crew gets there
|
| I’m the one you hate to see, your worst nightmare
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| While you dream of riding the block, and raiding the fair
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| Enemies get cooked like eggs, while they scramble
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| He lived, but he still lost his legs, as he gamble
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| Couldn’t sell what he shipped, the shell came from the clip
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| His lightweight belt, had got blown off his hip
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| No one on the strip, had the full explanation
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| Only that the victim had high expectations
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| Most never peddle above the street level
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| They cut they last deal with the devil, just to settle
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| For the crumbs that fell off the plate, of the late great
|
| Who died in the federal state prison, behind gates
|
| Those that’s bout it, M.C.'s I run with
|
| Those that doubt it, on the mic, get done quick
|
| Even if you left in intensive care
|
| I’ll have the plug pulled, before your crew gets there
|
| Those that’s bout it, M.C.'s I run with
|
| Those that doubt it, on the mic, get done quick
|
| Even if you left in intensive care
|
| I’ll have the plug pulled, before your crew gets there
|
| M.C.'s don’t want none of this, so just stop
|
| Got gimmicks with a bunch of facades, and just props
|
| Don’t take the song seriously, they just drops
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| For the radio, but you ain’t crazy, yo
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| I’m on the regular, slang competitor
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| I shock journalists, slap magazine editors
|
| Watch the D.P. |
| as he moves towards me
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| Stuffed on his wordplay, and can’t record me
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| Three dimensional, visual, write portraits
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| Enough in the photo lab, not to get caught with
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| Treason for any reason, will only bring about torture
|
| Should of been the nine, on those offers
|
| Ribs broke my plate in the fifth
|
| The fact that the beat came from Muggs, was a hell of a gift
|
| So I, took the present, sent some to the essence
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| Like the young M.C.'s, who’d only escaped adolescence
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| The sword remains in shape with endurance
|
| The blades can be quick, when replaced with insurance
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| But never seem to stop, regardless of the tragedy
|
| Hyperactive rhymes, slingers with charged batteries
|
| Those that’s bout it, M.C.'s I run with
|
| Those that doubt it, on the mic, get done quick
|
| Even if you left in intensive care
|
| I’ll have the plug pulled, before your crew gets there
|
| Those that’s bout it, M.C.'s I run with
|
| Those that doubt it, on the mic, get done quick
|
| Even if you left in intensive care
|
| I’ll have the plug pulled, before your crew gets there
|
| Those that’s bout it, M.C.'s I run with
|
| Those that doubt it, on the mic, get done quick
|
| Even if you left in intensive care
|
| I’ll have the plug pulled, before your crew gets there
|
| Those that’s bout it, M.C.'s I run with
|
| Those that doubt it, on the mic, get done quick
|
| Even if you left in intensive care
|
| I’ll have the plug pulled, before your crew gets there |