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chica chica chica (freestyle)
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1995 freestyle made on a bedroom tape recorder. Fun.
hiphop rap underground nyc flip la p plus uncle scam clique
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It's never too late to waste a little time. This is mastabeta.
Honest rap. Anybody in a pink jumpsuit need not apply, unless of course you are man enough to wear it without checking with your friends every ten minutes. ------------------------------------------------- "A fine collection of bad dubs. I'm just glad it exists." -EPL
Song Info
Genre
Hip-Hop • Alternative Hip Hop
Charts
Peak #289
Peak in subgenre #26
Author
Mastabeta aka E.Lugo
Rights
1999 Zombiehead/Goodrobot
Uploaded
March 18, 2003
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.1 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Lyrics
Word...a one two, a two to one..Uncle Scam Clique...EFROC...the sick lunatic...twisting L's...and exhaling green clouds of smoke...when I grab the mic you know a nigga goes for broke...the salary, consists of more than six figures...my mentality is stronger than six niggas, on the block drinkin' 40's...you could grab the boom box...we could get naughty...Aww shit I bust a freestyle for the 96...so all you wack emcees just get off this dick please...I freeze like sub zero...thicker than a meatball hero you zero...Like Robert DeNiro, I flip the script...then wrap my girl 'round your honeydip...Aww shit I rocked a world, pulled down the zipper...then I went in it like a Boston Clipper...clippin', shavin', misbehavin', ain't misbehavin', takin' care of self on the shelf...aww shit, I'm in stereo...soon to have a video...checkin' out my promo...domo...(?)(chica chica chica) It's all strange and the beat is changin'...I feel my head start to change and I'm feelin' all strange and...what do I do when I'm trapped in a cypher? Word to my lighter I'm pullin' all nighters...where's the L? Got to get this cypher going on...I'm the nigga with the luck like a Leprechaun...dusty...like like the roads I've been told...your microphone should be returned and then buried...check the rhyme...it ain't in a hurry, mad slow...check the way I flow... A little bit of EFROC, representin' live from the sess crops...who's to kill a cop? Not me...check this style "it crazy sloppy"...can't be copied...you could never stop me or drop me...or top me...cuz I hit like Rocky...aww shit I'm stocky....SIKE I'm weak...check the technique I speak...I leak like a faucet...my dick is the world so nigga get your diving board and jump off it...don't ever cross it, like a train track...cuz I got the crazy fact stickin' to your back...like a brace...check out my styles...forever like "spidd-ace"...when I turn your spot to "widd-aste" Check the style, check the tastebuds you cud..."the king of beers, check the king of the New Years"...voice actuated cassette tape recorder...allows me to get your order...on the menu...check when I continue...send you to Aruba, play you out like a tuba...hotter than the sands in the islands, I'm makin' grands...like "hundered candy bars", pullin' up in fancy cars...aww shit - signing autographs for the stars...everybody in the party wanna leave with bullet scars? That's fine but let me get mine in 1999...or 1997...or 1998...I can't wait for my style to inflate...and blow up...so the whole world knows I showed up...aww shit I pump like a speaker...check out my style...I'm all over your street like your sneakers...child...ooh child the honeydip saw it...and I had that beeper in my hand I had to call it...hey baby what's your number? I'll dig you out like a plumber...hip hop like summer...aww shit - the bummer... Ah shit, you gotta man? What the fuck's his name? I'll squash his head...squash his whole game...play him out like a dwarf on the court...I'm the tall man not the fall guy...The "chinky" eyed... puffin' La...crazy fly...YOU CANNOT DENY...it's the capital E...to the R.O.C. with the F in between, know what I mean? and I'm goin' up between your fly girls Guess jeans...took off the Reeboks and made her knees knock...check the style...check the cock...when I went "ooh child" and I got really wild and I pulled on the handle...."the native bronx vandal" strapped like a sandal and strapped like a bra...check out the niggas and they seen what they saw...all their eyes wide with anger...wanna be a boogie banger? but can't get down with the strangler...from Boston? You know I'm costin' you your life when the mic is like a device...I treat it like a knife...I'm so hot...twice the spice that you got... you could beat me? NOT.
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