[Intro]
"What are you going to do?" (x2)
"Nigga!"
"The K, the double-O, the L, the G-R-A-P letters"
"My mic sound nice, check one"
"The K, the double-O, the L, the G-R-A-P letters"
"Sound nice" (cut and scratched)
[Verse 1]
Rougher than Gotti, in tone
Got a body harder than Flintstone
Your girl got her skins boned
I'm diggin' her down with my skin-tone
It's Brown-er than Bobby 'cause humpin' is my hobby
Down in the endzone, with mens makin' her friends moan
Listen and learn and turn on your tuners
If you looneys try to commence, I break
Bang zoom, like Honeymooners
I don't want singers, but finger snappers
The speaker slapper, the weaker the rapper;
The dapper rapper's when I flap my trapper
Got that ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go
Dead up, head up, so I set up to slam a ho
I don't give a heck, but I don't peck on a redneck
You wanna pull cards? You're a dead deck, bed check
Lead from my TEC, come and step up and get your head wrecked
Wait a sec, you comin to see what's left?
I gotta catch my breath
Rappers slayed; like played like Jeff to the left
And none of you nitwits can get with this hip shit
You dipsticks, even miss kiss with no lipstick
I don't run a style, but a mile, gut-bust a child
Big ol' snappy happy rappers smile like Gomer Pyle
Hell, I'm ringin' bells with a ding-dong
I'll play you like ping pong
You're swingin' on my ding-a-ling, King Kong
I pop bad cops, I got a pig-a-day habit
Bing, bing, BING! Just like the Ricochet Rabbit
Grab it, your sound is just like a lady, baby
Maybe you're old as Grady, still in the 80's
Metaphors poorer than Haiti
I pop to the top, now the hip-hop Glock pop rocks
Whenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop
You name your best, I'll say "Who?" like owls
Pass me a towel, and I'mma move my bowels all over his vowels
Bring ten men, then I'll send my venom in 'em
You ain't gonna win 'em, 'cause he got a woman's momentum
And I don't wanna hear from a square
'Cause one of these niggas just doesn't belong here
My rhymes are like a 9mm Beretta
'Cause anythin' rappers could do, yo, I could do it better
"What are you going to do?" (x2)
"Nigga!"
"The K, the double-O, the L, the G-R-A-P letters"
"My mic sound nice, check one"
"The K, the double-O, the L, the G-R-A-P letters"
"Sound nice" (cut and scratched)
[Verse 1]
Rougher than Gotti, in tone
Got a body harder than Flintstone
Your girl got her skins boned
I'm diggin' her down with my skin-tone
It's Brown-er than Bobby 'cause humpin' is my hobby
Down in the endzone, with mens makin' her friends moan
Listen and learn and turn on your tuners
If you looneys try to commence, I break
Bang zoom, like Honeymooners
I don't want singers, but finger snappers
The speaker slapper, the weaker the rapper;
The dapper rapper's when I flap my trapper
Got that ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go
Dead up, head up, so I set up to slam a ho
I don't give a heck, but I don't peck on a redneck
You wanna pull cards? You're a dead deck, bed check
Lead from my TEC, come and step up and get your head wrecked
Wait a sec, you comin to see what's left?
I gotta catch my breath
Rappers slayed; like played like Jeff to the left
And none of you nitwits can get with this hip shit
You dipsticks, even miss kiss with no lipstick
I don't run a style, but a mile, gut-bust a child
Big ol' snappy happy rappers smile like Gomer Pyle
Hell, I'm ringin' bells with a ding-dong
I'll play you like ping pong
You're swingin' on my ding-a-ling, King Kong
I pop bad cops, I got a pig-a-day habit
Bing, bing, BING! Just like the Ricochet Rabbit
Grab it, your sound is just like a lady, baby
Maybe you're old as Grady, still in the 80's
Metaphors poorer than Haiti
I pop to the top, now the hip-hop Glock pop rocks
Whenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record shop
You name your best, I'll say "Who?" like owls
Pass me a towel, and I'mma move my bowels all over his vowels
Bring ten men, then I'll send my venom in 'em
You ain't gonna win 'em, 'cause he got a woman's momentum
And I don't wanna hear from a square
'Cause one of these niggas just doesn't belong here
My rhymes are like a 9mm Beretta
'Cause anythin' rappers could do, yo, I could do it better
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