What's The Word

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Inkadelic, jaxn, D James

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Here comes the microphone style
Here comes the microphone style
Here comes the microphone style

Check your head and duck and watch your back as the danger approaches
I'm loaded up but you can get the load of the roaches
I'm lost but I see you track the 9 skipping and hop the boat
Yo, now it's time to go and let the shit flow
The one motherfucker bringing the pain
The name is D James, but you can call me Mr. Propane
You see the problem is for you we keep it dangerous
Ya find us in the glossary for what a future banger is
Yo, I'm sipping the doctor motherfucking pepper
Let her, dipping and dripping the rocker and undress her
Then address her "I say did you have a good time"
She said "yeah let me go again and make you mine"
I said take your ass back to the line
It ain't party without me, D James, or the Jaxn 5
Rolling the dice, I catch your snake eyes
Fucking with the masta coming atcha stabbing 8 times
Yeah, I can hear you screaming from the overview
Im rolling like a lawn mower over you
Ya girls hugging me and touching me, yeah
You praising me cause the king is becoming me

Here comes the microphone style (What's The Word)
Here comes the microphone style (What's The Word)
Here comes the microphone style (What's The Word)
Yeah, here comes the microphone style (What's The Word)
Here comes the microphone style (What's The Word)
Here comes the microphone style (What's The Word)
Yeah, here comes the microphone style (What's The Word)
Yeah, here comes the microphone style

I'm a, entrepreneur, I'm makin' moves with this precision
From music to fashion, I'm expanding my fucking vision
I'm a boss in the game, there ain't really no competition
The people study my rhymes, like I'm a true metaphysician
I transcend dimensions, with my fucking verbal inventions
Unraveling these thoughts, breaking all those mental conventions
Spitting rhymes so smooth, you in a daze, shut up and listen
My flows defy laws, I'm beyond your comprehension
I'm the grimiest, most slickest, with the rhymes that are wicked and vicious
Post traumatic stress, I send your life into fucking remission
This acme not Looney Tunes, blow your brains with a fucking ignition
Your witnessing the proof of a dream that's coming to it's fruition
No, I'm not finished yet
Got you ducking your head, while I'm counting how many bullets left
We don't shoot anything that's below the neck
Pull up, blow blow, what I gotta do for you to show some fucking respect
Handle on my side, I buss it up and pull it, one two
Body laying emptily, his brain it pouring out goo
Counting up the bullets, all I really need is 3 more
Put you on a tee, you on a billboard up in New York
Cause now I see these stupid bitches, they all tryna spite me
Enlight me, I battle any of you tryna strike me
I'm a bad mother fucker right through my fucking bright teeth
Then make you and your crew uncomfortable, like some tight jeans
I know so many people who dislike me
But not once have they come try to touch me, come and excite me
We see you talking hard on the net, you tryna entice me
I come pull up to where all y'all live, I don't take this shit very so lightly
Man, this my prophecy
It's time that I start floating through life like this my philosophy
Cause honestly, hypocrisy's one thing that's fucking stopping me
I couldn't give a f*ck though, I just do this shit so properly
I move around real quick, I'm not into no damn photography
My circle getting smaller, guess I got granted some modesty
Went and ran up a check, all my bills come blue, not monopoly
Hope IRS don't knock on my door, cause there's no apology
You can't be just like me, cause we not on the same velocity

What's the word
What's the word
What's the word
What's the word

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