Lyrics:
stumbling
Then your motor skills start malfunctioning
Could it be the intake
Of the chemical that makes your body shake
All over, so critical
First one
throw em out da window
We to critical we yell at you walkin away lookin so fritical
The ADC
We be the number one contenders
WHEN WE COME TO THE STREET
another code red danger
Rap for real something you feel
Tatami floor chopping samples Spin Master with skill
360 in the chyper king and queens known
skills.
Sinking in quick-sand confined to this slave Island
Designed from a master's plan we'll never have thee upper hand
Sinking in quicksand derived
of the real
Times across the land is gettin Steelier than Dan
And I be damned if I let any man disturb the program
Punks go on with they ( ? )
Yeah, when their
shit don't impress me
I make papes off the shit I create, and then dictate
So get your motherfuckin' shit straight
I got skills and I'm hard to kill,
identical twins
Don't stretch the small thing, copycats are finnicky
Without skills, they master the art of mimicry
But I go line for line on the whole
[Kool Keith]
I got skill you're on my tip now back off
Slack off let me do this and y'all turn the wack off
The radio stereo here we go
you?
I wrote so ill that I sold ten mill
Drop more platinum, to fo' mo' bills
You pop mo' shit, I show mo' skill
Greatest of All Time, and that's
And then they wonder why we go set everything fire
Once upon a time I was critical of the riots
I realized the reason why we riot is cause we tired
I see
Nice]
Hoods is up so skills is up
It's a stick-up, so why'd you interrupt?
So such bust material cerebral
I'm eatin cereal with spoons sippin Cepacol
you'll learn the hard way that what comes around, it comes around
and skill is everlasting
the student need to stand up to the master, surpass him
you?
I wrote so ill that I sold ten mill
Drop more platinum, to fo' mo' bills
You pop mo' shit, I show mo' skill
Greatest of All Time, and that's
exceptional
And credible, straight to the G`s you better go
Cause GangStarr`s known to be prone to be
Masters of streetwise poetry and turntable wizardry
to college
Still a scholar I stand taller
Clean as fuck call me a baller
I'm a boss I'm a shot caller
You can call me the master of disaster
Spitting rhymes
shit don't impress me
I make papes off the shit I create, and then dictate
So get your motherfuckin' shit straight
I got skills and I'm hard to kill,
up when it get critical
I feasted in New Orleans short lived, but had to switch it up
To Milwaukee same year as Jrue we both winning bucks
Won a quick
There's nothing prior or after
The newest wave critical disaster
We making sure that the game behaves pity for your masters
I'm making sure that the game is
through a black hole that just opened trying to stay focused
My 3rd eye just opened but it's 3 in the morning just closed it
Trying to master this space
as we return to the wrongside
Art programs and more hip-hop jams, must arrive
as we return to the wrongside
More better styles and wack writers step aside
shit don't impress me
I make papes off the shit I create, and then dictate
So get your motherfuckin' shit straight
I got skills and I'm hard to kill,
Critical, drinking the Kool Aid
Fade blue, made inkling, Pyatt Pree
Flee the three headed Kraken
Crackling sounds, from the shadow
Enjoy the program
up?
You guessed wrong
Four
10,000 hours it takes
To master a craft like raps that I make
I don’t like making mistakes
And critical feedbacks something
and dice screaming like a banshee
Sword at first is getting kind of heavy
Master
Am I ready
Show me what you got the sword can be handy
Proud of you
Skills
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