Caught you lookin' for the same a new thing, check out this I bring Uh Oh the below the level 'Cause I'm low next to the bass, c'mon up the radio They that I'm a criminal By now I how people never know The could be their friend, guardian I'm not a I the party and all the madness, I'm not a racist Preach to to all 'Cause some they had this Number one, not to run the gun I wasn't licensed to one The minute see me, fear me I'm the epitome, a enemy Used, without clues I refused to a fuse They had it on the news Don't believe the
Yes Was the start of my jam So it is again, another def jam But since I gave you all a little That we you lacked still consider me a new jack All the you can hang 'em hold the rope But they hope to the And it ain't dope The follower of tell me that you understand Until you the man The book of the new rap game treat me like Coltrane, insane Yes to them, but to me I'm a different We're brothers of the mind, unblind Caught in the and Not I rhyme for the sake of of riddlin' Some claim I'm a smuggler Some say I never of 'ya A rap burglar, false We don't it do we? It's that's what it be to 'ya, dig me? Don't believe the
Don't the hype, its a sequel As an equal, can I get through to you My 98's boomin' a trunk of funk All the jealous punks can't stop the Comin' the school of hard knocks Some perpetrate, drink Clorox Attack the black, 'cause I know lack exact The cold facts, and they try to Xerox of the new school, uncool Never the fool, just made the rules Remember there's a need to get Again I I was a timebomb In the the radio's scared of me 'Cause I'm mad, plus I'm the can't c'mon and play with me in primetime 'Cause I the time, plus I'm gettin' mine I get on the mix in the night They know I'm livin' right, so go the mike, sike Before I let it go, don't my show You try to reach and and get elbowed Word to herb, yo if you can't swing a little bit of the taste of the bass for you As you get up and at the LQ some deny it, defy if I swing bolos Then they clear the I go solo The of all of that Some is the whack You believe it's true, it blows me through the Suckers, get me a shovel Some writers I know are devils For I say don't believe the hype Yo Chuck, they must be on a pipe, Their pens and pads snatch 'Cause had it I'm not an fiendin' for static I'll see their tape and grab it No, you can't it back silly rabbit I'm going' to my assassin Harry Allen, I ask him Yo Harry, you're a writer, are we that Don't believe the I got flavor and all those things you boy, part two bum rush and show Yo Griff, get the black red and Gold countdown to Armageddon 88 you the S1Ws will Rock the hard jams, treat it a seminar Teach the bourgeois, and rock the Some sau I'm But they're not But I got to give The media says