Lyrics:
they all throwaways
Yeah, we can get blammers and hammers, do damage and
Yeah
I'd like to thank all the MC's across New York
Bronx, Brooklyn,
and the golf course
Carry the New York Times, shoot a few holes, blow their minds
You're probably wondering by now
Just what this song is all about
What's
and the golf course
Carry the New York Times, shoot a few holes, blow their minds
You're probably wondering by now
Just what this song is all about
What's
And it ain't my night to get buried in the dirt
But it is your day to get buried by a verse,
It'll be another ten years before you see an MC Ren here,
a barrel full of monkies
While I break out to shoppin mall he's makin a quick phone call
About my sound is too new and different
I need to be regular like
to exterminate the flyest nigga like Orkin
Stalkin lofts men to New York and in between
so take caution, leave the flossin for dental hygiene
Mental plus my
did)
SHUT UP KID!!
This is a new dance so shake your butt
And get a load of what its like to be doing Skat Strut
Now Jack was nimble and Jack was
when Jonny stomp
If ya lukewarm leavin ya clothes and boots torn
Pro's and con's, megabomb's and so-on's
By arid actions try MC's to get their roll
important like the pope, I'm a muslim on pork
I'm Makaveli's offspring, I'm the king of New York
King of the Coast, one hand, I juggle them both
it's mold
I'm 'bout that money, so excuse me if my heart is cold
The magnum deployed, then I destroy mattresses
Late night love affairs with New York
gauge
Shotgun, 'cause son, the Shane is not the one
The noise bringer, humdinger, funky rhyme stinger
Bring your girl to my show and I'ma swing her
Yes live from New York City
Blastmaster KRS-One of the massive BDP crew
And we gonna do a little somethin like THIS!
Once again I flash a style
That
to them niggas at the top
Who's the best MC's Drizzy Cole or Lamar
No worries baby Dane gone hold it down for New York
My new shit made some new dudes give
platform representin' with the LP
[Evidence]
Yo, I take control grab the horse by the mane
I'm that New York type of driver on this L.A. terrain
me an inch, damn right, I'll take a mile
Cause I keep funky fresh routines on file
There's a lot of MC's out there that show and don't prove
Runnin
Accepted by yo new bitch
Yo old bitch and yo BM
Y'all always on that BS and
PS I'm takin all fades
I'm takin off first, this G6 is on it's way
No matter how
by Michael Jackson
Or the Treacherous 3 record, they call "Action"
When you hear me do it, you will be shocked and amazed
It's the brand new thing
say, "Isn't he something?"
Rock from New York City all the way down South
Saying rhymes and making music, with my mouth
I'm a tell you party people
crew
So what you do, is back up if you work for Bush
Cause all the Presidential prison pushin politicians
gotta get MUSHED, gimme back my land you
My name is Wise Supreme and I don't eat pork
I reside in Chilltown but came from East New York
From a time of bein' broke to a life of luxury
Stay
feel like the Haitian Frank Sinatra, in his young years
New York, on my way to Kennedy airport
L.A., I was told wear colors wherever you walk
Dirt,
[MC Hawking]
Ah-yuh
That's right motherfuckers
I'm back, driving a funky track
I've got a story to tell you all, so listen up
You'll trip
It goes one for the mind and two for the money
Who dat wit skull tattooes and his nose runny
It's me, that funky MC, the Rrr-ah E
Indubitably, I'm
What was criticized six years back
Is now back
With New York on the jersey front and back
Feel like Tiger Woods
Got madd goods
Way up from the cheap
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