Live at the Barbeque

Main Source, DJ Jazzy Jeff

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Main Source

Main Source was a Canadian/American hip hop group that was based from New York City/Toronto composed of Toronto's Sir Scratch and K-Cut, and Queens' Large Professor. Later, Mikey D (also from Queens) replaced Large Professor. The group was often compared to Steely Dan for its meticulousness in the studio. more »


Year:
2004
56 Views
Playlists:
#1

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It's like that y'all (that y'all!), that y'all (that y'all!)
That y'all (that y'all!), that y'all (that y'all!)
That y'all (that y'all!), that y'all (that y'all!)
And that's all!

Street's disciple, my raps are trifle
I shoot slugs from my brain just like a rifle
Stampede the stage, I leave the microphone split
Play Mr Tuffy while I'm on some Pretty Tone shit
Verbal assassin, my architect pleases
When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffing Jesus
Nasty Nas is a rebel to America
Police murderer, I'm causing hysteria
My troops roll up with a strange force
I was trapped in a cage and let out by the Main Source
Swimming in women like a lifeguard
Put on a bulletproof nigga I strike hard
Kidnap the President's wife without a plan
And hanging niggas like the Ku Klux Klan
I melt mics till the sound wave's over
Before stepping to me you'd rather step to Jehovah
Slamming MC's on cement
Cause verbally, I'm iller than a AIDS patient
I move swift and uplift your mind
Shoot the gif when I riff in rhyme
Rapping sniper, speaking real words
My thoughts react, like Steven Spielberg's
Poetry attacks, paragraphs punch hard
My brain is insane, I'm out to lunch, God
Science is dropped, my raps are toxic
My voicebox locks and excels like a rocket

It's like that y'all (that y'all!), that y'all (that y'all!)
That y'all (that y'all!), that y'all (that y'all!)
That y'all (that y'all!), that y'all (that y'all!)
And that's all!

Fatal is merciful and they curse me
When I grip the mic I show no mercy
I got heart, I rip the party apart
From the seams and hem up like bell-bottom jeans
But you get done, you get blues like 501
Brothers are live but I bet ya I'm liver son
So let me get upon the scene and redeem
The dream of a team, and knock 'em out like Mitch Green
Smoke some thai weed, flow at a high speed
Rap on off breaks stomping like Northlakes
Cause I'm living larger than the founders of Fendi
An Asiatic brother that many rappers envy
So round up your crew and entourage
And let the God Merciful just take charge

It's like that y'all (that y'all!), that y'all (that y'all!)
That y'all (that y'all!), that y'all (that y'all!)
That y'all (that y'all!), that y'all (that y'all!)
And that's all!

Some of them said (said what?) that the Ak should quit
But I don't sweat it, cause I'm too big for that small shit
Like pigs when it comes to a showdown
Huff and puff but the Ak won't get blown down
Cause I come strong, rather than come at all and not be ready
That's what separates me from the petty
MC's gas themselves by drinking too much Getty
And get torn the f*ck up like confetti
I'm rich and thick, your lyrics like Aunt Jemima
It doesn't take Keenan Ivory Wayans to know that I'mma
Get you sucker if you bite like a piranha
So save them preschool rhymes for the kids at Wonderama
Point blank, period, with no comma
Rhymes so dangerous, call for the homicide
Cause I knock 'em dead even when I'm at my worst
The only future that lies ahead of them is the lights from the hearse
Got game like a crackhead
But don't be misled, I keep rappers on lock like a dread
Knots in the head from the words that I said
So get a shovel and dig your grave cause the shit you talk is dead

It's like that y'all (that y'all!), that y'all (that y'all!)
That y'all (that y'all!), that y'all (that y'all!)
That y'all (that y'all!), that y'all (that y'all!)
And that's all!

I grab up girls like jacks
Add 'em on like tax, and I'm over like Hot Trax
As far as brothers are concerned a pressure cooker from start
To finish I diminish like a Cuisinart
Secondly, I'm sick of critics, who's necking me
(Ooh he got an afro) yo, but I got dough
Why's my name the Large Professor?
Cause I milked your cow in other words I hit your heifer
Don't talk about how you can break Rambo
That's just a bunch of mamba-ja-hambo
Propaganda, save it for Savanda
Joe and Amanda, Zach and Alexandra
Don't let the folks around your way puff your head
Cause you'll be the owner of a hospital bed
I'll kick fire out your ass so fast
You'll be as crispy as my man Bill Blass

It's like that y'all (that y'all!), that y'all (that y'all!)
That y'all (that y'all!), that y'all (that y'all!)
That y'all (that y'all!), that y'all (that y'all!)
And that's all!

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Written by: Shawn Mc Kenzie, Kevin Harold Mc Kenzie, Paul Mitchell

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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    "Live at the Barbeque Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 4 Aug. 2021. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/26571974/Main+Source>.

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