Lyrics:
microphone
And if you leave I swear to god im gon be on my own
What would i do if you was never ever here for me
Blinded by love but somehow you the only one I
logical that
I detect a nigga dialect by the way he rap
I elect myself President MC
My career so intelligent, unique physique
Then with mathematics, not
I believe in helping my fellow man
From any culture, creed or god
What I don’t believe in is indulging weakness
My people gotta be hard
If you don’t
I'm gonna break yah
I'm gonna break yah
I'm gonna brrrreeaak
I know I don't understand
I know that I don't know
I take you by my hand
But I don't know
New York City
Ever since I used my man I moved to Jersey
But realistically, God, could of called me early
'Cause I got a big bop I'm wanted by
the nerve to let your man riff
And start flakin' like dandruff
C'mon son my steelo's tight
Cause by far I'm the best producer on the mic
Born to write,
the nerve to let your man riff
And start flakin' like dandruff
C'mon son my steelo's tight
Cause by far I'm the best producer on the mic
Born to write,
Verse 1
-------
Some of the busiest rhymes ever made by man
Are goin' into this mic, written by this hand
Are comin' out of this mouth, made by this
mini, money, mini, mini
It ain't all about the money
When I was hustler, two dogs by my side plus a black pistola
Loud MCs, feel the silencer
Y'all still
[Mack 10]
Microphone check i.o. from the west coast beller and tella
I cuss like a sella when you see her she's a gonna
Moved to California blew
Uhh
Yeah, why'know
Shit is wild, heheh
Can't complain though, I'm alive
Healthy and allathat, knahmsayin?
Just tryin to do my thang
Praise to all
on the highways of rap
Choked up by the smoke and the charcoal
A lotta stamps and brands, we like a barcode
I'm bashin' all the media strikes to keep the media
on the highways of rap
Choked up by the smoke and the charcoal
A lotta stamps and brands, we like a barcode
I'm bashin' all the media strikes to keep the media
on the highways of rap
Choked up by the smoke and the charcoal
A lotta stamps and brands, we like a barcode
I'm bashin' all the media strikes to keep the media
maybe i should open a school
The game is my son so that makes me a dad
Imagine a son left by his dad
Hopeless and helpless till dead
The game needs me
of the bars they didn't crown me my crown so I'll say what I said then now
It's the muthafuckin' microphone's illest hear it in the diction
Can't mimic these
PEERLESS
By Raymond McDermott
Verse 1:
Hear ye, hear ye
Listen in close as I make my decree
Weak emcees need not be near me
Y’all sucker emcees need
That Love
That you
Will surely know
When you feel it in your body
Fall Into the love
That we will show
Projected right here
From my microphone
You
As I procced to give you what ya need
As I rock the M-I-C-R-O-P-H-O-N-E
Rhymes I got plenty stored inside my mind
Other sucker emcees envy cuz they
my list, I'm about to show the world who's next
killin with the microphone, menace, damn its so sick we the illest in the business be a witness
are burning
Got their tongues tied
Heads keep turning
When we walk by
See it clinging
To my body
Boys start singing
Looking fine, baby
Wheels start
Verse 1:
I’m half of the yak in,
Just did the backings,
out for a smoke then I’m back in,
Microphone booth and attaching,
Truths to their actions,
the microphone and I'm gone take it away
Every time I spit I blow one or two speakers
Top model diva but my name not Eva
Yeah I bring fever rocking classic
wasn't real, I wouldn't be in this position
Like that, dogg, I got a whole lot to say
I'm by myself with my rhymes when we kick it all day
Lil' Jay used
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