now please... (DNA's bit of heart shit)
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Lyrics
,Now please
Ya'll keep this cheap, making sales by the heap.
But can't even satisfy a single street...
Your own block says it's cheesy and if you think:
"there's a career in this", betta pull out a squeegy (window-sponge)
'cause your squeaky beat doesn't please me... one bit.
And if it's on a compilation, man I'll skip the damned track.
Your whole click of tricks is wack. Really you shouldn't rap,
but try to sell your ass. 'Cause that's what you sound like:
fartmeister on onions, beans and fried-swine
plus lot's a budweiser. But while there's...
TV-screens filled with your grill. I cannot think up
a single reason why now. Was it...?
a sentence that I didn't say right or that your jam contains something that's tight? NAAAAH...
that ain't it for sure. For long G.O. (ha)s got it going on.
We're tough like samsonite, strong as dynamite and kite-type late night. Right mind for stepping on them tracks and tying them raps to that. Kicking it, pull your foot back, 'cause I'm spitting sjid.
Shooting bulletproof-piercing raps at all ya'll protected-copy-cats.
You cannot drop this rap, come up with it, nor try to mess with my men's jams.
They slam, unlike you lames, you slip. We'll step... over you and move ahead... and that is it.
Explaining what makes us the sjid is partly the same
as naming what part of it you dig, or is it? Yo sjiddit that's perhaps
'cause you've only heard them fly M.I.C. texts yet.
