[Keith] Yo whattup This beat is funky [C.Gee] Word up Kool Keith you know why this is funky? Cause I ain't it no other way [Keith] [C.Gee] So bust this, yo I want you to rip this beat apart, on you
Keith] I stamina, for a beat that's rocketable For you wack MC's, jocketable the notes and quotes, analysis Home pissed as I disrespect you But my rhymes correct you a switch to a small I wax all of you, and leave your ears to You need Excedrin, Anacin, And for your brain, better sin stupid Now you your choice You didn't win now seein my voice in the flesh, out your radio No illusions, in stereo So we go as I step on to you I never knew you but my go through you like acid, I burn your suit off I'm Heat Miser, and you're For any date and time you wanna off My rhymes are clippers, they cut hair off the back the sides the top above your your skull, I step to you cause plastic, my mind is solid steel I make your domepiece spin a windmill Slow, I think time to go I'm not it
Whattup I'm not havin it I'm runnin the universe right now
[TR Yeah? Yo Ced Gee, what you got to add to
[Ced I a crowd of rappers, I need a whole stadium The Kingdome, an arena or off, while I walk on stage with the rhyme missile, cold your ass up For better safety, your mask up Musically, I'm like lye in face I meters with tons of bass You can't take it, the funkier I it With brick walls, you can't it Toy boy, you the Noyd I be a Jetson, smooth like Blastoff, I pull your cells out a A twelve gauge rhymes I gotta cock it I'm fryin, chicken MC's who fell off Recruited as a boy And now the sissy, becomes a scout Tryin to rip and lift and shift style to on the beat I get unique, rhymes for your feet to shuffle, your shoes scuffle on down to the funky rhythm I give em Ced Gee on the mic, I'm not it up, I'm not havin it man I'm fed up with all this goin on
[TR Yeah I see a lot of things gettin out of out here So Keith, get it off chest
[Kool I'm not that average rapper, equal And for the biter, his beat and grow and grow, til he finds out not a pro-fessionally, up to par, myself No comp', I like to battle by myself, compete myself Score myself, on these ass charts How can a say he's on the top? Eight rappers, my rhymes stop lyric bombs, the wack ones drop like snowflakes, they turn to My shakes, causin earthquakes in Michigan parts of New For rappers, ducks who tryo to hawk on the avenue, my rhymes are Covering, smothering I'm brain bustin, so take a quick your knots start to heal and go down, and OK But like my son, you still certain laws, a is a factor I your skull out, move it with a tractor power, crushin MC's who try to talk and mix and and bite the lyrics of a master, I'm Kool Keith, I'm not it