Lyrics:
puh he say how many licks
I am the master I don't need a mix
Your batter taste better when I'm in the mix
Momma made a money maker money taker nigga
I'm saying, the vet, not the pet
Dig this here man
Like my nigga Cashball, you know what I'm saying, me and DeAnte say
Man, it's "stacks, tracks
did it?
How you claim to be a rapper when you don't rap?
You have no tracks
You sound like a white Kodak
Fuck that!
We don't need another one of those
heads
And Marsha(ll), do you snort crack or what
Cos I can't even imagine m&m's without having nuts
Or chocolate, nah see what we got here is
Just a butt
and Too $hort raps
Oakland, California that's where I'm from
The city where the boys say you don't want none
But if you do, I'm gonna tell you this
(
star, a bunch of rats
Master splinters need shells like Ninja Turtles in your back
Hold The mic like the Olympic torch, jump hurdles on the track
I
an opinion
I ain't even asked
Back in the mix the DJ don't even scratch Won't play the tracks
D-I-V-I-N-E
Do it for his glory never speak on the group Don't
tool ever dismantle the master's home?
Nana Asaase will say, one can only be as true as his mother tongue
So what do we call our own
When we don't
tool ever dismantle the master's home?
Nana Asaase will say, one can only be as true as his mother tongue
So what do we call our own
When we don't have
I own my masters, that's end of discussion
I'll mix a hit then I'll drop like it's nothing
Sober as shit when I flow, I ain't puffing
I'll catch
Forget my pride shit I even quit my job
For the one that I love to work music
Recognised by my art that I spill in my game
Pour my heart on the track
hop, I drip-drop
I flip-flop with them white tube socks
It go sherm sticks, watch me burn this
That’s what the chronic smell like
When them chemicals mix
not the pet
Dig this here man
Like my nigga Cashball, you know what I'm saying, me and DeAnte say
Man, it's "stacks, tracks and contracts," you know
may be slow
We still gonna blow like the horn played by Horatio
The stakes is three feet high and risin' like De La Soul
So I got Wonder Why, my man
You know who it is without
A doubt or hesitation (yeah)
If money talks
I got my master's in communications (Haha)
But you can't hold a conversation
fail?"
Like blooper vids
Chale Rude is rap Anubis
Bro I do this, yo
I chew it like Granula mix
Cos Rude is this nightmare on some Kruger shit
Right here,
Welcome to misery where the killers pop it up and when I say pop it up I mean deal wit da tug of the gun
We can do it if anybody want it where
fit
Now this is a smash hit
Produced by Scott Storch
The effort I'm gone put forth
I'm ma blaze a track like a human torch
In H-Town we do it up
Chop
means necessary
I gotta get it by like any means
Write it record it mix and master it I produced it
This is what I call a day in the office, who's this
You never seen this
Though, I got the cleanest
I got the cleanest, meanest penis
You never seen this stroke of genius
Ey, woher hast du diese
your mommas proud 2X
Let's do this for the people
Let's do, let's do it now
Back in a day when I was a teenager
Before I had status in a true way
it in my room
Mix and master woa
I'm the mix and master goat
I'm that nigga, you don't know?
7 figures, I'm so cold?
Single drop May 17
May 25th
put down the mic
Thinkin D-Dilated Peoples brings heat
That's guaranteed heat for sure, a pure mix-ture
Some try to do the same but they style ain't
award me with hoes
Put em on a track like vocals
Leave em for a day and they want their
Master back like the first album by Jay
I dash with the dividends
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