Free download
Song Info
Genre
Charts
Peak #984
Peak in subgenre #215
Author
Mistah Izzy
Rights
Mistah Izzy
Uploaded
March 29, 2004
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.1 MB • 128 kbps • 3:24
Lyrics
Far past crazy, I'm gettin' riddah' this-fool-quick..
Besides Grande homo, touchin' more balls than a pool-stick...
Who's sick, well, look, he jumpin on this jews-dick...
Too slick, for any of his too cool for cool-tricks..
Grande gettin-bruised-quick, can't use-his-loose-lips...
Dude is a true-bitch, so I'll choose which....
Way his game-gonna'-vanish...
Amennaza Grande ain't a big-threat, but that's his name up in spanish...
Fame's-gon-be-bannished, from the rest of his-future...
Come-at-me Grande, 'n leave ya fuckin' chest-filled-wit-sutures...
Unless-he-confess-he-a-loser...
Might happen when the songs-done...
Don't need Lauren Hill to tell ya, you really just-lost-one..
C'mon-son...(never defeated)... I got the love-n-the skill...
Get under Grande's skin, rap's version of Buffalo-Bill...
What you gon' feel, is pressure, 'n decide-to-go-home...
Like Mike Irvin, stay wit fresh-lines-right-on-my-dome...
Hit the mic, then-I'm-gone, can excite on my own...
Might-be-fightin'-alone, still eyein' the throne...
Disable any challengers, 'n don't rely-on-the-chrome...
You can spy-on-me-holmes, but won't be nuttin-legit...
Grande can be a priest, still not touchin' this kid...
No fuckin wit Iz, so jus listen-to-the-lesson...
No smith-n-wessun, me, I'm holdin-different-weapons...
Like a mic, 'n a voice box up in my throat...
Take it easy, Grande gon' do nuttin but-choke...
Provoke, and he's the brunt-of-my-lyrical-brutality...
I'm sick like flu, Grande's a seasonal-allergy...
How-can-he, win...wit tons of rap-scrambling...
If so, he'd be like Nevada, a really "WAC" champion...
Can't-be-in, a battle wit me, and prepare-to-win...
It's not fair, but then, 'n again, I'm airing-men...
Out, witout a struggle, grande can pout-n-tussle...
But I'm doggin' him for real, give his mouth-a-muzzle...
I'm out-for-trouble, packin' an amount-of-muscle...
To route-my-hustle, back out to crush-you...
Cuz I won't evah care, wit this cleva-flare...
Got Grande's mind dancin' like his brain's on some Fred Astaire
I'm heading-where, I will decide...
I will provide, how I'll win 'n the knowledge-of-why...
I can jus glide, into the next round..
Profess sounds that grab interest, 'n jus get clowns...
To confess now, that Izzy's the best-round...
I'm willing to test-now...
These parts, where I weave-marks...
Only time Grande spits shit is when he breathe-farts..
Me, I believe-harsh, words are in place-and...
Grande, don't think I'm easy-to-face-man...
Got "Mike" skills wit me, lilke we was teammates in space-jam...
