I'm kicking out the verse in my speech when I flow I'm not like a devil, I'm searching for the dough or the drugs So eager when you're driving a Benz I keep the low pro making ends with my friends Free skills I'm shit, I'm a brother with mad styles Don't even try to step, punk My lyrics are mad filed Crazy hardcore with a touch of jazz Microphone chemistry to bust your ass www.youtube.com
Check it out I'm in the house like carpet And if there's too many heads in my blunt I won't spark it I'll put it in my pocket and save it like rocket fuel 'Til everybody's gone and it's cool Then I spark it up with my brother His momma named him Mo, but I call him Mo' Lover And he's more than a cover, he's a quilt We're putting shit together like that house that John built On the hill, 'cause this shit's gonna feel like velvet, turtle My style fits tighter than a girdle If ya hate it then you can just leavе it, like Beaver But in a day or two I'll makе you a true believer in me 'Cause like the alphabet you'll see That 'ism kicks a rhyme, not your everyday soliloquy Like Chef Boyardee, my rhyme is truly cookin' Peace to Matty Rich 'cause he's straight out of Brooklyn, New York I don't eat pork or swine when I dine I drink a cup of Kool-Aid, not a big glass of wine Or a Henn', Heine', if you have time I'll drop rhyme again
I'm not like a devil, I'm searching for the dough or the drugs
So eager when you're driving a Benz
I keep the low pro making ends with my friends
Free skills
I'm shit, I'm a brother with mad styles
Don't even try to step, punk
My lyrics are mad filed
Crazy hardcore with a touch of jazz
Microphone chemistry to bust your ass
www.youtube.com
I'm in the house like carpet
And if there's too many heads in my blunt I won't spark it
I'll put it in my pocket and save it like rocket fuel
'Til everybody's gone and it's cool
Then I spark it up with my brother
His momma named him Mo, but I call him Mo' Lover
And he's more than a cover, he's a quilt
We're putting shit together like that house that John built
On the hill, 'cause this shit's gonna feel like velvet, turtle
My style fits tighter than a girdle
If ya hate it then you can just leavе it, like Beaver
But in a day or two I'll makе you a true believer in me
'Cause like the alphabet you'll see
That 'ism kicks a rhyme, not your everyday soliloquy
Like Chef Boyardee, my rhyme is truly cookin'
Peace to Matty Rich 'cause he's straight out of Brooklyn, New York
I don't eat pork or swine when I dine
I drink a cup of Kool-Aid, not a big glass of wine
Or a Henn', Heine', if you have time I'll drop rhyme again