Whos It On — текст песни (Casual)





Verse one: pep love



My name be pep love

Over the loop, I scoop, and do a flip

Alleyoup, put a dip in a hula hoop

And spin her as I went in her

Shes hot like diner

She sounds like a tenor

Then again I wouldnt know, yo

What is the subject

The way that pep love check

Mics and throw rights and lefts

Dont move or budge yet

Cause hieroglyphics in the motherfuckin house

I rips descriptions of mcs duckin out

As we step in

Pep and del and casual leave the weapons

Cause we flippin this funky shit for the crowds acceptance

Ive been around the world and i, i, I never seen

A crew of fresher niggaz that just be actin all in they teens

Never stallin, as soon as we fill in the scene

I bet ya that I wet ya mcs like a dream

Bringin a pow pow

Shootin up like coke in the veins,

But now, now

Id rather have smoke in the brain

Whos the pimp?

The nigga that profits when I rock shit

I spin

Check this shit which I have concocted

Then you can jock it



[bridge:]

"whos it on, whos it on, whos it-on? [repeat]"



Verse two: del the funky homosapien



Yeah, its time I add flavor, and Im glad I came

Your style is lame, you picked a bad time.

Del will propel rhymes and tell minds to calculate

When it comes to rhymes I know Ill be great

Inside my ride when I get it, I wont have to kid it

Im right around the corner

You mourn or you shitted, bricks

I gets my kicks with my tricks and my treats

The agenda will send ya

In and out through my landscape

I will ban fakes, phony figures

No need for alarm cause Im the nigga

Youre in the wrong place at the wrong time

And youll catch a pistol whippin

But if you got a bong fine

Nowadays I dont forget what is flavor, interlockin

Not meant for mockin, or plagiary

Im the major g, ask your agency

How my pagers free of anguish, ya strange bitch

I never saw you, we all crew

So you small crews gets no attention

I commence to blend, within the background

Like a chameleon, revealin them

This is how I track down traitors



[bridge]



Verse three: casual



Im comin phat, so dont mistake dude

I gate crews

Drop that shit kid

Ill make ya kneel, bow

When I reveal real styles

Electrocutin we wreck the cute scene rappin, adaptin

Cause the sacs spend his lifetime, tryin to bite mine

Its quite funny

Word to the money that they say we gettin

My crews judicial, youre superficial

Need I say more, niggaz get vexed

Now they got me leavin bodies on the floor

Like homeless

I slice your spleen, Im twice as mean

Your dome is disconnected, we wreck shit

Niggaz dont know how to flow

That disgusts me, and keeps me bustin

I must clean the hip-hop

Im avare, no one can compare

I fiend to hear a nigga who can flow better

You no better

Hieroglyphics runnin shit from here till after foever

So clever mcs take shorts because jooooohn. . .

Knows whos it on



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