[ VERSE 1: WC ]
Concentration, a method I use to allude
Or confuse or remove a sucker away from my crew
No mercy, I`m givin no slack to those who wack
Flinch an inch and get beat with a bat
Now here`s a mellow rhyme I slapped together a few minutes ago
Pertainin to those who dissed the Low Pros
Kept us on hold, called us dead broke, yo
You know punk, I got the right to take your life on the go
Cause you`se a perpetrator, you ain`t down, you`re just around
And by, you step off, punk, before you get beat down
Brutally dissed, not only mental, but physical
Brought face to face to the 5`10 lyrical
WC, now it feels, hey yo, check it
When you mention my name, think of a full metal jacket
Not mislead, I improvise and many buy it
But don`t slip unless you wanna see a riot
Smile in my face, you`re nothin but a backstabber
Roamin around sayin that I`m a weak rapper
To solo artists and crews and those who never heard of me
I`m here to say that the W is givin no mercy
(He`s got style
He`s got grace
He`s got humor
And he understands his format)
[ VERSE 2: WC ]
Picture flames steadily burnin in front of your dome
Intensity is growin and growin, the heat is gettin strong
You`re trapped inside, have lost your breath
Lookin at death, cause on the Dub you slept
And overlooked the professional
But see, I kept comin, yo
Lyrics so fly that shoulda been on _That`s Incredible_
Now why would a sucker wanna battle the Dub?
You`re just a featherweight, or better yet a scrub
A snob, I dedicate, not perpetrate, get it straight
To you `89 rappers, y`all ain`t all that great
Want a l, I meet your rhymes at the hip-hop shows
With styles that played out with Gladys Knight and the afros
You ain`t down, punk, you`re not invited
You`re jokin my rhymes, all you wanna do is bite it
Correspondin to my rap, the need to adapt
Comprehending to my English, I`m not talkin in Japanese
Or Chinese, I`m speakin of a disease
Called `perpetratin`, you punk MC`s
Yo, the W strikes like a sword, just rippin and shrippin
You phoney rappers in half, y`all be trippin
Like little women, feminine punks, you need to quit
I want the mic like a basehead want a hit
Versatility, ability makes it hard to step to me
Step off, you`re soft, go face humility
Really see, you wanna be jocks of impurity
Step towards the Dub - aw man, that`s stupidity
Mentality gotta be growin strong, stop gaggin me
Strategy: seek, destroy comp`s a dead tragedy
Rhyme designer, I didn`t climb to encline
Here`s some old school stuff, y`all, to mess with your mind
Like poison or Raid, but too bad, I don`t spray no mo`
Now I throw grenades and carry .44`s
Bro, you`re too slow, hit the danceflo`
It`s time for the W, wax and tax shows
Solo artists and crews and those of you who heard of me
I`m here to say that the W is givin no mercy
(There is nothing abnormal about the way that he talks
He doesn`t talk abnormally fast
He doesn`t talk slow
He just talks to the people)
