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Tell Me What You Claim
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For all them dumb fobs try'na rap in english. Stick to tagalog man. F*ck! [Line-up: Ilah Man . Castro / Tracked & Mixed by Castro]
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Uptown Soul, Hip Hop, MTL, Montreal, Quebec, Collaboration, Music
, . . Consisting of members. . . . . This group has the of bringing a flavor in the industry. joints that anybody can to. A of & . " representing , an underground record label created by with working alongside her. Making it to the as a . Nothing , nothing . for .:: uptown_soul@hotmail.com: jay_0ne12@hotmail.com: mic_molestah@hotmail.com:
Song Info
Genre
Hip-Hop • Hip Hop General
Charts
Peak #620
Peak in subgenre #332
Author
Written by Uptown Soul
Rights
2007 FRESH2DEF, INC.
Uploaded
September 16, 2007
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.5 MB • 128 kbps • 3:51
Story behind the song
For all them dumb fobs try'na rap in english. Stick to tagalog man. F*ck! [Line-up: Ilah Man . Castro / Tracked & Mixed by Castro]
Lyrics
[Intro: Ilah Man] G'yeah! Y'all can't fade this Uptown Soul right here cuz Rebel Faction Crew fo' life homie I keep it bangin' from Uptown to the westside Real city baby, c'mon! Chea'... [Verse 1: Ilah Man] You's a whackass rapper, better yet an actor You ain't never kept it real so I'ma show you Lil' bastard / Listen to the pastor, don't make Me come & smack ya / Endin' yo' career is Somethin' I already mastered / My block keeps Bangin', yeah we keep it fo'real / Who you Claimin'? / Grab the mic but you ain't droppin' No skill / Hard internet gangster, you make me Laugh / Once you cough every coroner come & save Ya' ass / Man I ain't from the south but I keep It really dirty / 4-5's on yo' chest like Michael Jordan's old jersey / Wha'chu gon' do Wit' the G's on the frontline? / Yo' rhymes been Dead, man I call you the flatline / Lil' punk Faggots, man I know wha'chu about / Dawg I'm Drownin' you with rhymes / You gon' need it Mouth to mouth / Homie this ain't an issue You'll be glad that I dissed you / If you talk A lot of smack I'll rip the flesh from ya' Tissue / It's the funeral fiesta / Los dias de La muerte / Come up in ya' hood, I guarantee you Will get wasted / Uptown to the westside 6-8, Boy i Putchu to the ground, kick my chucks up in Ya' face / Do my walk boy / A shore of blood Leakin' from ya' eyes / I hit you from the city Of 1-8-7 / You gon' die / If you wanna get back You could catch me in the corner or maybe Chi-town all the way to California / We do big Moves, big thangs, big business / You suckers Know you finished / Point blank, period, chea'! [Hook x3: Ilah Man] Tell me what's yo' name boy Tell me wha'chu claim boy Tell me where's yo' block boy [Verse 2: Castro] Ain't no escapin', the water was tested / Go Ahead & test it, I put crabs in the bucket / I'm Like fire that burns within / Phenomenon kickin' In, spontaneous human combustion / I roast Emcees 'til they reachin' the ashes / No time to Decompose 'em, developin' maggots / Many faggots Infested, manifested in SoundClick / Step ya' Game up, quit stompin' in dog sh*t / Takin' over Traditional Asian raps to the top / "Rize To The Occasion" hit the genre of hip-hop / Fresh off The boat, they be rockin' in flip-flops / This Ain't a fob city, you in Canada / Feel me? Hypothetic, hypothetically / I would never rock They shoes / They be diagnosed with athlete's Foot / There's no comparison in our division B*tches / So don't stress for the comebacks Y'all already dismissed / B*tch! Muh'f*cker! [Talking: Ilah Man] Man, y'all got Castro mad fo'real cuz y'all Just made him scramble / He usually don't swear On tracks but this one's exceptional because we Got a lot of ugly lil' cats that come to us And be like "Yo do you wanna collab?" & this And that but I'm like "Yo kiss my ass man cuz You're ugly & you're a fob" / Man, I don't know Some... / Some of y'all n*ggas man I just don't Understand / I'm not / I'mina leave it anonymous But there's this one cat / Um / Na' I'm not Gonna say his name but his name is like you Know uh, halo-halo / And uh / You know this guy He can't even punch a mix / I would just knock You out your slippers homie & cut your toenails Man cuz yo / Y'all can't do that wit' your Slippers man / Wha's wit' you son? / And yo Ya' whole crew man / I would leave you guys Brainless man / Nobody wants you like raisins On eggrolls homie / Nobody loves that sh*t Nobody loves that sh*t / Nobody's feeling you Man / You're like a... / You're like a... / What Do you call that? / What do you call that stuff? You're the last order like a McFilet sandwich at McDonald's son / Y'all gotta stop rappin' man Cuz you ain't legit / Uptown Soul baby / G'yeah!
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