([Double K:] Uh… check it out, y’all… it’s the P, you know… sending this one out right here… everybody that put it down for L.A.… all the crews and shit, putting it down for they crews, and battling other crews, doing whatever… also want to give a big “Rest In Peace” to that nigga Bigga B, who gave a lot of us heads something to do on the weekends and weekdays and whatnot, that one’s for you… my nigga… bring the noise!)
[Double K:]
There’s no better way to start your day then this
Checking out the supreme two, recover the blitz
That was once in hip-hop, but lately, this shit’s cheap
Every man sound like another look-a-like in the street
And that’s bad, that ain’t nothing to brag and boast about
Get on TV, fake the funk, and show out
Ay-yo, that’s high school shit, niggas need to present
Something like this, hanging with the purpose of kicks
Back hands and fly rhymes, and Thes with the loops
Something lovely for the troop, in a jeep or a coupe
‘Cause its universe-atile, you know the way it was
When everybody enjoy the body rock in the clubs
But, yo, nowadays, it’s either this or it’s that
I rather diss real quick with a baseball bat
The hat stays to the back, and the sack steady burned
The way cool West rocker with stripes to earn
Not the tape you claim, that ain’t the game I play
In the cut, I lay twats and study day-to-day
The masters of the cere- taking care of the crowd
I get cheers when I’m moving, if- yo, if not, they’re booing
It don’t matter, I still do it, strike harder than first
Put everything I been thinking into one long verse
Without a curse, without the bullshit, running it down
The way I do it kinda spooks, spread it over your town
For these Starbuck-niggas running up to the mic
They don’t excite, they bite, going against the rules
Like it’s nothing, but it’s day is coming
And one time, me and Thes’ll be, like, here… laughing and shit…
[Double K:]
There’s no better way to start your day then this
Checking out the supreme two, recover the blitz
That was once in hip-hop, but lately, this shit’s cheap
Every man sound like another look-a-like in the street
And that’s bad, that ain’t nothing to brag and boast about
Get on TV, fake the funk, and show out
Ay-yo, that’s high school shit, niggas need to present
Something like this, hanging with the purpose of kicks
Back hands and fly rhymes, and Thes with the loops
Something lovely for the troop, in a jeep or a coupe
‘Cause its universe-atile, you know the way it was
When everybody enjoy the body rock in the clubs
But, yo, nowadays, it’s either this or it’s that
I rather diss real quick with a baseball bat
The hat stays to the back, and the sack steady burned
The way cool West rocker with stripes to earn
Not the tape you claim, that ain’t the game I play
In the cut, I lay twats and study day-to-day
The masters of the cere- taking care of the crowd
I get cheers when I’m moving, if- yo, if not, they’re booing
It don’t matter, I still do it, strike harder than first
Put everything I been thinking into one long verse
Without a curse, without the bullshit, running it down
The way I do it kinda spooks, spread it over your town
For these Starbuck-niggas running up to the mic
They don’t excite, they bite, going against the rules
Like it’s nothing, but it’s day is coming
And one time, me and Thes’ll be, like, here… laughing and shit…
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