lördag, april 29, 2006

If you come to battle, bring a shotgun

Pack it up, pack it in,
Let me begin, I came to win, battle me that's a sin.
I won't ever slack up,
Punk you better back up.
Try and play the role, and yo the whole crew'll act up.
Get up,
Stand up, (c'mon)
C'mon throw your hands up,
If you've got the feeling,
Jump and touch the ceiling.
Muggs lets the funk flow,
Someone's talkin' junk, yo,
I'll bust him in the eye, and then I'll take the punk's ho.
Feeling funky,
Amps in the trunk,
And I got more rhymes than there's cops at a Dunkin' Donuts shop.
Sure 'nuff I got props,
From the kids on the hill plus my mom and my pops.

(chorus)
I came to get down,
I came to get down,
So get out your seat and jump around!
Jump around!
Jump around!
Jump around!
Jump up, jump up, and get down!
Jump (times 17)

I'll serve it out like John McEnroe,
If your girl steps up, I'm smacking the ho. (slap)
Words to your moms,
I came to drop bombs,
I've got more rhymes than the bible's got psalms.
And just like the prodigal son, I return.
Anyone stepping to me, you'll get burned.
'Cause I got lyrics, but you ain't got none,
If you come to battle, bring a shotgun. (shotgun)
But if you do,
You're a fool,
'Cause I duel
To the death.
Trying to step to me, you take your last breath.
'Cause I got the skill,
Come get your fill,
'Cause when I shoot to gif,
I shoot to kill.

(chorus)

I'm the cream of the crop,
I rise to the top,
I never eat a pig,
'Cause a pig is a filthy animal. (um... "cop")
Or better yet, a Terminator,
Like Arnold Schwartzenegger.
Trying to play me out,
Like as if my name were "Sega."
But I ain't goin' out like no pro, bitch.
Get used to one style, yo and I might switch.
And up up and around...
And buck buck you down.
Put out your head
And then you wake up in the dawn of the dead.
I'm coming to get ya,
I'm coming to get ya,
Spittin' out lyrics,
Homey, I'll wet ya.

(chorus)

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