Verse one: xzibit
(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 its wack
I draw back the cap for the peelin
Should of stuck to rock dealin
Cuz its the blood stealin/super vill..
Chill..stayin high like the ceilin
See there aint enough room for the both of us
See its a showdown/throw down
Your best style Ill bust
(yo)i write rhymes that make niggas throw they sets up
Couldnt hold my style if you had a pair of handcuffs
In all disrespect
Ill snatch you by your neck
And do a suplex and step
So nigga 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
Ill bust a field wit indo
Killin quarts of beer
Sadies 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 its time to go on to the next mode
Make room for the kaboom/cuz Im 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 fuckin featherweight
I aint the type to pic up the mic
And catch the stage fright
Ill pull a gauge if I aint paid right
To the promoters on tour
Short me a buck and a buckshot and the barrel is yours!
Im 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? thats only in your dreams ho
Im not sayin Im unbeatable/im sayin Im untouchable
Livin comfortable just like a huxtable
Plus Im 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 Im a stay black
No matter how high the pay stacks
Or if my rep gets bigger
You might get take this nigga out the ghetto
But not the ghetto out this nigga.....
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 Im the pharoah
Cuz Im 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 Im 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
Nows my turn
I got furious styles like larry fishburne...
Wit da bitches tunin me in
Like its the young and the restless
Next up to bust my shit
From the l-i-k-ss
Yes its the freshest
Wit lyrics rough around the edges
Ill smoke you on the mic
Like a pack of benson hedges
But..hold up wait
Ill bust rhymes thatll circulate
Thatll 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 whos the dopest butterflyer
Ill 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 fuck wit my sound
You betta do the hokey pokey
And turn ya self around...
