[Keith] Yo whattup This beat is funky [C.Gee] up Kool Keith you know why this beat is funky? Cause I ain't it no other way [Keith] [C.Gee] So this, yo Keith I want you to rip beat apart, it's on you
[Kool I keep stamina, for a that's rocketable For you wack MC's, jocketable the notes and quotes, analysis Home pissed as I you obedients But my rhymes you like a switch to a small I wax all of you, and leave ears to ache You need Excedrin, Anacin, And for your brain, better sin stupid Now you picked choice You didn't win now seein my voice in the flesh, out your radio No illusions, in stereo So here we go as I on to you I knew you but my rhymes go through you like acid, I burn whole suit off I'm Heat Miser, and you're For any date and you wanna square off My rhymes are clippers, they cut hair off the back the sides the top above brain your skull, I step to you cause plastic, my mind is solid steel I make your domepiece like a windmill Slow, I it's time to go I'm not it
Whattup I'm not havin it I'm the universe about right now
[TR Yo Ced Gee, what you got to add to that?
[Ced I a crowd of rappers, I need a whole stadium The Kingdome, an arena or Step off, while I on stage with the rhyme missile, blowin your ass up For better safety, leave your up Musically, I'm like lye in your I drown meters with tons of You can't it, the funkier I make it With brick walls, you can't it Toy boy, you the Noyd I be a Jetson, smooth like Blastoff, I pull your out a socket A twelve gauge with I gotta cock it I'm deep fryin, chicken who fell off as a boy scout And now the sissy, a girl scout Tryin to rip and and shift style to mines on the wack-ass I get unique, write rhymes for your to shuffle, watch 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 nonsense goin on
[TR I see a lot of things gettin out of hand out here So Keith, get it off chest
[Kool I'm not that average rapper, nobody's And for the biter, his will and grow and grow, til he finds out not a pro-fessionally, up to par, myself No comp', I to battle myself by myself, compete myself Score myself, on these ass charts How can a fool say on the top? Eight rappers, my rhymes stop lyric bombs, the wack ones drop like snowflakes, they to cornflakes My shakes, causin earthquakes in Michigan parts of New For rappers, ducks who tryo to hawk on the avenue, my rhymes are Covering, worldly I'm brain bustin, so a Bufferin quick until your knots to heal and go down, and OK But like my son, you obey certain laws, a major is a I pull your out, move it with a tractor power, crushin MC's who try to talk and mix and change and the lyrics of a master, I'm Keith, I'm not havin it