What a Feeling
Kaboom! Guess who stepped in the room? Lookin' like the creature from the Black Lagoon There's gonna be a 187 real soon If some niggas don't give me some elbow room I'm runnin with the Legion of Doom Like a pack of wolves foamin at the mouth on full moon I track range between space and time And push back like receding hair lines That's the essence of the effervescence At this melodic dynamic shit progresses A mic murderer for hire As I sit back and watch your little gimmick backfire Under the circumstances in any order of events I be with sick niggaz rollin' thick Dissin the system got America mad at me Like my name was O.J. Simpson [Chorus:Repeat x2] My style is all that and a big bag of chips with the dip So f*ck all that sensuous shit The astronomical is comin through like the flu bombin you Get off my d.k. you pitty pat bitch, stepped into the party People wonderin' if I'm a start some shit Prisoner of the media very often Cause people be blowin shit out proportion False information and bogus arithmetic Got everybody stuck on stupid, misinterpreting shit How could I? Why should I damage my career? Over a nigga that'll probably bust me out of fear Don't let your mouth get you into somethin that your ass can't get out When I see you I'm a pull your dreads out your scalp Caution: code red I could kill you now but instead I'm a put this thought into your head I got the illest crew in the industry We could go to war for 30 years like foreign countries Yo slow your roll Cause I don't really think you know with what you dealin [Chorus] Man f*ck bitches I'm getting money And laughin at these clown ass niggaz like they funny The grand imperial with milky material I be the surprise in the bottom of your cereal. One thing I gotta say my Squad never lost it Unlike you corny MC's out there who Farrah Fawcett Can't rhyme runnin your mouth all the time While Def Squad sit back and enterprise perfect crimes Got the Funk Lord squeezin the life out of keyboards While each MC tear the frame out of mic chords Yo I was in the bullpen with them niggas pullin heists Grown ass men crying like little mice, but I'ma bounce true indeed Cause punk ass only bagged me with two ounces of weed Now I'm back in the city lights And all I can think about is keepin it tight
Written by: JOSEPH P. HOWELL, MARK SOUTH, KEITH OMAR MURRAY, ROGER RYAN, SEAN J. COMBS, TERRI E. ROBINSON, HERB MIDDLETON, FRED A. JR. WESLEY, JAMES BROWN, JOHN H. STARKS
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
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