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Song Info
Genre
Charts
Peak #1,747
Peak in subgenre #50
Author
Suspicious
Rights
2004
Uploaded
April 12, 2004
Track Files
MP3
MP3 0.6 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Lyrics
Aiiyo K.O. you need to watch what the fuck ya says yo
Callin' out ya street team? I chop'em like yayo
Hit the block the same night to double my figures
I'm like the motherfuckin' ocean showin' love to you rivers
Plus I know ya bitches love to be wit us, just face facts
Ya exclamation marks don't do shit, you hopeless bitch
Grab ya coat and split, 'fore I shatter you and smoke the broken bits
Even givin' tokes to kids
Place a bomb on ya belly and explode ya ribs
So NEVER, so I never gave you open gifts
You write rhymes like attention deficit
When it comes to battlin', I'm like your dad - I beat you for your benefit
Screamin' for help, that's what it looks like
You couldn't rock a motherfuckin' crowd wit a good mic
You couldn't spit fire if I brought'chu you to Hell
You bound to fall like pennies when they dropped in a well
And never get up - sever ya snake head for profit
And leave you wit'cha chains and your brains in ya pocket
I know you thinkin', "How's this Brick Status guy beatin' me? Nobody used to compete wit me
It used to be oh, so easily
Wait, maybe I should settle this beef peacefully?"
But fuck that, you sprayed the wrong name from ya lips
Watchin' too much BET wit Entertainment and shit
Thinkin' you can call out just whoever you like?
Here's some advice: Don't ever fuckin' pick up a mic
Cuz if you do again, then I gotta do what I do again
And all my groupie friends like, "Oh, no! Not you again!"
Aiiyo Poet, I drink you like Moet, then piss you out on doorstep
Ya best course of action is to forfeit
The cradle or the coffin? I'll let you decide
In one I rock you to sleep, the other lock you inside (blaow!)
I'm takin' crackshots at each and every one of you
www-dot-fuckyou-dot-ya besta duck when I aim at'chu
My shit is unexplainable, toxic and highly uncontainable
I'll spit SARs at anyone who dares challenges
Fuck touchin' mics, somebody call this man an ambulance
Ya name don't do you justice, I should call you Webster's
The way you make up big words and put'em in a sentence
You rap like my fuckin' old school teacher
Box you hard enough to give your nose a new feature
The big bad bully here to snatch your lunch money
You prolly never fought before and bet'chu punch funny
I'll tackle you and kick sand in ya face
Hold ya hands behind ya back and ask you how them granules taste
And why you ever start rappin', where's ya amatuer tapes?
Run ya tracks like Ethiopians and stamina race
Take ya watch and ya jewels
Gimme ya pop and ya shoes
Matter fact I rob you fully, let him walk in the nude
And all ya talkin'll do, is more damage than good
Cuz you don't really want it wit me man, I'll damage you good
