[Kurupt
Drunken Master]
Yo, I`ma do this like as if my mothafuckin` homeboy Rakim
was standin` right in fromt of me right now- Y`knaw-I-mean?
Drunken Master
Our freestyle`s like, you know,
wit` a big, fat blunt in my hand
and some beer in my other hand
G`d up, nigga- O.G.
Yeah, nigga- G`d up, nigga- O.G.
Drunken Master
G`d up, nigga- O.G.
Dogg Pound
Yeah, check it- Check it
Put it on
I could flip a style- Break `em down, flip a brick a mile
Let `em know I leave bodies in piles
Too versitile, I could even blurry the clouds
and makin` all visions blurry- Everybody worry like
`Oh, no! He`s bustin`!` Then I bust in the flurries
And they don`t know about me, homeboy, and observe
Get all served on the top of the curve and break `em down
all the time, tryin` to bust a rhyme
You just a bitch by nature, snitch and I hate `cha
Break `em down all the time, I`m the earthquaker
Bring somethin` to the door you never saw before
like a 44 sawed-off in my Impala
My homeboy`s about to pop two in your collas
Lay these niggas down, homeboy, make `em holla
You don`t know about a gangsta, homey
Comin` through, just a pranksta, homey
Flip it up, get it right- Ignite mics,
twice as nice, cold as ice- Oh, so precise
It be Kurupt, youg Gotti- Headlinin`,
break `em down in the potty- Can`t nobody
do it like me, homey, and I know it
Fuck wit` me, nigga, I`m the Poltergeist Poet
When it comes to styles, I got `em by the dozens;
just ask my momma, my fatha and my cousins
They`ll tell ya the same- Know `em by name
Run through then spit flame
Homeboys, I hit `cha dead on your terrain
They don`t wanna fuck around,
they don`t got enough money to challenge my campaign
These rhymes, make `em flow like champagne
Drive `em down all the time then never, ever remain
Substain, substanstula, Dracula,
break `em down Blackula, tarantula.
You don`t know about styles, homey
I make `em backflip, attack shit, I rap shit
Free shit, M.C.`s don`t know I come through and speed shit
You know, fuckin` blaze-the-weed shit
You just a bitch, homey- You just a bitch
Bustin` a rhyme, you just a bitch!
Bitches is all I know `cause that`s all I see
when I look at your camp, claimin` that you amped
Homeboys get vamped and silent
I bring it all, homeboy, violence
They don`t know about me, don`t make me get violent
`cause I make you leave the whole place in silence- It`s silent
Huh, yeah, yeah
Wh-what-wh-what!
Yeah, yeah
Check it out
Let me take a toke
Yeah, yeah, let`s blaze this weed,
you-know-what-I`m-sayin`? Drunken Master and Kurupt!
[Drunken Master]
Pop the champagne, blaze the weed
Professional Chedda Chasers got what `chu need
Ya don`t stop, uh,
ya don`t quit
Pop the champagne, blaze the weed
Professional Chedda Chasers got what `chu need
Ya don`t stop...
[Instrumental switches to It Ain`t My Fault`s instrumental]
[Kurupt]
For my niggas down in the South, Atlanta
Check it out
I heard you had somethin` that I want
I heard you was in the back, I was in the front
So what I`m gonna do besides switch up
and get `em in the side- See `em, make `em bitch up
Punk, you don`t know me, nigga
I heard you talkin` before, know you walkin` for
the side like you `bout to escape but I`m `bout to make
sure this whole place is draped in yellow tape, homey
And I want the money first- Get `em right,
disperse one rhyme, hit `em wit` one verse, nigga
