You Know My Steez
"The real, hip-hop" "MCing, and DJing from your own mind, ya know?" "I, I guess right now we should start the show" Who's the suspicious character strapped with the sounds profound Similar to rounds spit by Derringers You're in the Terrordome like my man Chuck D said It's time to dethrone you clones, and all you knuckleheads Cause MC's have used up extended warranties While real MC's and DJ's are a minority But right about now, I use my authority Cause I'm like the Wizard and you look lost like Dorothy The horror be when I return for my real people Words that split wigs hittin like some double Desert Eagles Sportin caps pulled low, and baggy slacks Subtractin all the rappers who lack, over Premier's tracks Severe facts have brought this rap game to near collapse So as I have in the past, I whup ass Droppin lyrics that be hotter than sex and candlewax And one-dimensional MC's can't handle that While the world's revolvin, on it's axis I come with mad love and plus the illest warlike tactics The wilderness is filled with this; so many people searching for false lift, I'm here with the skills you've missed The rejected stone is now the cornerstone Sort of like the master builder when I make my way home You know my steez "You know my steez" "Let em know, do your thing y'all" "Keep it live" "To the beat y'all" The beat is sinister, Primo makes you relax I'm like the minister, when I be lacin the wax I be bringin salvation through the way that I rap And you know, and I know, I'm nice like that Work through worldly problems, I got the healing power When the mic's within my reach, I'm feelin more power Stealing at least three minutes of every rap radio hour It's often easier for one, to give advice Than it is for a person to run one's own life That's why I can't be caught up in all the hype I keep my soul tight and let these lines takes flight The apparatus gets blessed, and suckers get put to rest No more of the unpure I got the cure for this mess The wackness is spreadin like the plague MC's lucked up and got paid but still can't make the fuckin grade How many times are wannabe's gonna lie? Yo they must wanna fry, they can't touch the knowledge I personify I travel through the darkness carrying my torch The illest soldier, when I'm holding down the fort ("You know my steez") You know my steez "Let em know, do your thing y'all" "Keep it live" "You know my steez" "Let em know, do your thing y'all" "Keep it live" "You know my steez" "The mic..." "Let em know, do your thing y'all" "Keep it live" "You know my steez" "The mic..." "Let em know, do your thing y'all" "Keep it live" "You know my steez" "The mic" On the microphone you know that I'm one of the best yet Some punks, ain't paid all of their debts yet Tryin to be fly, ridin high on the jet-set With juvenile rhymes makin fake-ass death threats Big deal, like En Vogue, here's something you can feel Styles more tangible, and image more real For some time now, I've held the scrolls and manuscripts When it's time to go all out you be like, "Damn he flipped" Now I'm sick, fed up with the bullshit Got the lyrical full clip, giving you a verbal asswhip Don't trip it's the gifted prolific one Known as Bald Head Slick why is the press all on my di-dick? My style be wilder, than a kamikaze pilot Don't try it, I'm about to start more than a friggin riot Styles unsurpassable, and nuccas that's suckas, yo Them motherfuckers are harrassable For I be speaking from my parables and carry you beyond The mic's either a magic wand Or it gets tragic like the havoc of a nuclear bomb Then I grab your palm, no pulse you're gone And if you thought we'd lose our niche in this rap shit you way wrong I stay up, I stay on, shine bright, like neon Your song's, pathetic, synthetic, like Rayon Fat beats, they play on, want dope rhymes, put me on Word is bond you know my steez
Written by: CHRISTOPHER E MARTIN, KEITH ELAM
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
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