🎵
LETRA
Freestyle See look look) I grab the mic and start breakin down niggas Wit out no problem Broadcastin live from the bottom/aint no mic checkin worse/ Kick some rhymes if you got/but if it’s wack I draw back the cap for the peelin Should of stuck to rock dealin Cuz it’s the blood stealin/super vill.. Chill..stayin high like the ceilin See there ain’t enough room for the both of us See it’s a showdown/throw down Your best style I’ll bust (yo)i write rhymes that make niggas throw they sets up Couldn’t hold my style if you had a pair of handcuffs In all disrespect I’ll snatch you by your neck And do a suplex and step So ni*** you can check my credentials Just hard rhymes and instrumentals Xzhibit smash you wit a dental And a loaded pistol No longer lookin in the window I’ll bust a field wit indo Killin quarts of beer Sadie’s outta here... Verse two: mc breeze Like a fuze/start spreadin the news Its 94 and breeze is givin niggas the blues I paid my dues/and now it’s time to go on to the next mode Make room for the kaboom/cuz I’m about to explode And drop bombs like a b1/cops I seize none And niggas step up/i soak emcseason 3 seconds to detinate/you betta evacuate No time to hesitate/you fuc*** featherweight I ain’t the type to pic up the mic And catch the stage fright I’ll pull a gauge if I ain’t paid right To the promoters on tour Short me a buck and a buckshot and the barrel is yours! I’m psycho pathic like manson Aint wit the dancin But still I get more cheers than ted danson More dough than marino or roles than pacino You beatin me? that’s only in your dreams ho I’m not sayin I’m unbeatable/i’m sayin I’m untouchable Livin comfortable just like a huxtable Plus I’m rollin wit the cross roads Movin fast foward/while you other suckas Stuck in a pause mode I goes deep like a great white But I’m a stay black No matter how high the pay stacks Or if my rep gets bigger You might get take this ni*** out the ghetto But not the ghetto out this ni***..... Verse three: j-ro, tash For the balls basketballs Microphones gassin grass(hey) Some of the few things j-ro likes to pass 93 mandingo/94 I’m the pharoah Cuz I’m b-bbad to the bone marrow I get wild Wit more styles than the martial arts I need weed I roll more grass than golf carts April 92 you no the ro was a looter Now I’m writin raps on my lab-top computer J-ro the tittie fiend/rap dean/wearin green Been on the scene/since the age of 13 I learned I had to earn the mic Now’s my turn I got furious styles like larry fishburne... Wit da bitches tunin me in Like it’s the young and the restless Next up to bust my shit From the l-i-k-s’s Yes it’s the freshest Wit lyrics rough around the edges I’ll smoke you on the mic Like a pack of benson hedges But..hold up wait I’ll bust rhymes that’ll circulate That’ll wake yo punk ass up like mc eiht Cuz I be rockin rhymes Since the roof was on fire So point me to the bitch who’s the dopest butterflyer I’ll make her break it down like she patra when I catch ya Broadway is on the tables While I throw these lyrica atcha So....slow down before ya f*** wit my sound You betta do the hokey pokey And turn ya self around...
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