Lyrics:
on this album I just signed ta Diplomat yesterday
What's really good
(I mean, I mean the album is done I mean
You know you on the next joint you on my
Big Daddy Kane catch a vibe/
I was raised by the Rap Gods/ raised by the rap gods
I was Raised by the Rap Gods/ raised by the rap gods
Prodigy, Guru,
Man you hell of a pussy for
The shit you did last night
I could tell you nervous right now by
How you moving your hands right
Yeah please don't fuck
And ya red hot butt and now ya say ya hearin' not
It's the rap Fred Flintstone, I makin' the Bed Rock
I give it to ya never failin' ya, handlin'
tampons
Into my ears, just only not to
Hear all these wack-ass albums, brought to
The industry by ‘em dumb skinny and tattooed
Freaks, their raps -
or Scot La Rock
But they can get bust
Get robbed, get dropped
I don't play around
Nor do I fuck around
And you can tell by the bodies that are
slain last summer by a cocaine runner
A new year is dawning, new crews is forming
Rival gangs warring blood steadily pouring
The streets are deep Son
from Far Rock hoppin'
Over the turnstile
To set up shop up top by the Jamaican spot
My joints have been a
Bop, from vinyl, cassettes, cDs and streams
heart into it, you stupid?
I'm a gunner, whenever I got the rock I'll shoot it
The undisputed champion on the M-I-see
Been Wu-Tang before it became
damn sure can't take the weight
Momma had to hustle cause my pop was jive
Momma had 1 son 2 jobs
What a woman! Come from where the
Women gotta work like
alike now 'cause I am stocky
Myron hit like Geodude just like Rocky
You a mimic like Kakashi gon' copy
Stay with that Big Red but you won't pop me
you rock will
Not make the swelling go down
Try settlin' down, we strapped
Mad chrome to grip
Last cat that had a bone to
Pick is a skeleton now
This
liner note
While I connect wreck genuinely cuttin through these red ropes
Son grip the love spigot, yeah that's the ticket
This platoon pop 99
That she won tickets to see
The Chili Peppers play
On Ellis Island
And it was for the release
Of their new album
By the Way
And she won the tickets
By
grab a pack of breath mints
Ya’ stink and that mic don’t deserve it
Just put it down son, c’mon it isn’t worth it
Do yourself a service, I’m comin out
out the shop
Mint green sidekick, custom-made rag top
"Strictly Business" is the album that we play
"You're A Customer"; the pick of the day
Now there's
proceed, bumpin' that that Californication, by the Red Hot
Fuck around and then hit 'em with a red dot
Y'all better not me fuckin' with me
Who, him? Yeah,
all these junkies came from
Long way red monkey
Used to rock them red monkeys in
The Trap House had that skunky
Niggas on the block and I'm
Getting
male like Redman
Until I get red hands like in Whut? Thee Album
Until we get reparations
I'll be defecating
Talking hit to anyone like
Fuck the outcome
Only God can judge me, got me feelin' like I'm Tupac
Take off with this backwoods, stuff that bitch with moon rock
Ride with this ratchet and this
Alright, c'mon, yeah, yo
Yo, Dave, drop that shit, my nigga
Check 2-1-2
Who rock the motherfuckin' microphone
Better than Q? Yeah, uh, check 2-1-2
'em grown and then watch 'em lead
Let me proceed, bumpin' that that Californication, by the Red Hot
Fuck around and then hit 'em with a red dot
Y'all
Awright see that? That's what you call
A new song when I’m gonna
Stand up here and read the son
Of a bitch while I'm
Doing it we figured that this is
down with us
D.J. Red Alert, he's down with us
Robocop boy, he's down with us
Makin' funky music is a must
I'm number one
People still takin'
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