Is that a turntable? Well, get on it it's turn
Who gets laid, the or the egg? How about the MC that has been led To a renegade teacher, preacher then he got 'Cause I'm a feature straight from the Bronx
Better known as Boogie If I was a right now, I'd get crowned The Nice is a teacher, not a or a rap lord I even write my rhymes on a
To get specific to make you understand What makes the 808 It's simple, I'm a it off like this how many stupid MCs I've dissed
But if they to try me I won't buy it I'll look them up and and I'll say, "Don't even try it" 'Cause I can go on and on without The TR, another form of
MCs like Chunky, moving real Shaking and baking MCs a junky Fiending, MCs like they was cocaine Calling them John Doe, meaning they no name
spin you like a quarter, drink you like water Hit below the belt with you never thought of I lay down the law that I am a I roll like a wave so you oughta Float like a sailboat, move like a
In water, now you soak Into a rhyme of mine until you hit the It's like an anchor, it's no problem For me to just bake you, eat you a cookie
I am a professional, boy, just a rookie I'm to sing a song but some are not able Compared to me just crumbs on the table
In my prime, more vocal than I've ever I'm not an amateur, sort of a veteran Split from the bums, arriving from a trip Now I'm to just cold rip
MCs confetti, eat 'em like spaghetti I chill for a but yet I'm still ready To MCs, sink 'em like a boat will I roll heavy, thick oatmeal
So now you know the 808 is I do damage in just one Here's a little message to that tryna hang out remember that I give pain out
The relates to a terrorizer Never hiding, clever memorizing Poetry, history, math or even I'm not b-boying, just hoeing
Showing, blowing MCs like the wind I might lay you, of like a hen does 'Cause rhymes are weak and unstable Compared to me just crumbs on the table
You better before you even get soup I'll put you on the and sell you like a prostitute Like a street whore, make you want more and Move you to the side, up and down like a
Pulling out a gun is for But I'm it, so go for yours You may even try to diss but I it flattery I pack more volts than a Duracell
MCs, smooth like the breeze Scott me funky, yo, that was one theme Or topic, I be rocking little city I play, I leave a heat wave Burning up the industry, never try to get me
I'm the type of person never needs rehearsing Just a little sex, a six of Beck's And my room to move and a Guinness Stout To make me able, chilling and stable
I'm on the mic Sometimes I'm on the I'm superb, of like herb A man of my and I've never been served