Free download
An old school hip-hop head with a futuristic flow & unique style.
Song Info
Genre
Charts
Peak #2,763
Peak in subgenre #1,307
Author
Chuckie
Uploaded
March 16, 2005
Track Files
MP3
MP3 2.5 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Lyrics
i got a left-coast offense, bombing on tracks
explosive, off safety, like Randy Moss in the flats
cats say they can beat me while they pissed off steaming
the same way they could fly while they was asleep, dreaming..
they swore that they could do that, wipe the sand out, bow 2 me
wake up, put your make up on, welcome to reality
ima never loose and my primary reason never varies
I keep my eyes on my comp, everything else, secondary..
I’m double jointed, got 2 brains inside of my dome
i could write the sickest 16 while i'm spitting on the chrome
get gone mic-phone be telling me come get me..
& get at a bitch on radio like fat joe done did fifty…
…..it’s lights out when u battle me
I have that ass in the store looking around for candles & batteries…
Blade brigade, hit stage with rage
Don’t rattle the cage unless u trying to get faded baby…
stay off lay off u aint no rhyme writer
hate on a player the prize fighters idol
that bastard in the bracket u strain to get with
it’s a straight up mismatch like your cigarette aint get lit…
pour out some liquor quick kid, somebody’s dyin
to push up drunk daisies.. homie I break iron
Ima blaze every set like a professional should…
Squeegee the stage, sneakers on the hardwood
Got techniques like DJ’s that’ll straight degrade u..
When the needle in the groove, I spit to cross fade you
& ya dental, records, no medic can detect it
twisted up chunks in the septic im electric
lippin off at both coasts & gottem lookin
spit a straight line from Oakland to Brooklyn...
break that…. i bet not…..
my shit is staight up smokin like a dredlock
ozoned in a recliner, eyes low like China
the grimy grider, hunting all kind of vagina… down
…..yea I be giving to the needy
runnin more trains than graffiti spanking p-p yea
then after im done, bitch I only speak gadget
take change up out they purse like David Blaine street magic
often it get tragic, leave em with eye soars…
then I walk off with a limp that a pimp would die for…
u catch that metaphor? u see chucks the mic-pro..
I simply pimp linguistics & treat tracks, like, hoes…..
