Lyrics:
spreaded throughout my crew
Well, you all know TJ Swan who sang on my records
"Make the Music", "Nobody Beats the Biz", well, check it
Back in the days
u*, blow your back out
You bad mouth, make 'em all believers
Throwing rocks from a glass house, y'all ain't perfect either
See that c***** and that
Get a mouth shot, for openin your mouth to say
Feel my heat in the night - it leaves you without the day
What I write is a passage for niggas
and niggaz with jobs on the side sell weed
I feed off the hunger that a bum or abandoned child gets
Freaky, like Marv Albert, in outfits, by Chaka Givens
I
dope hits in the mix
Rippin shows with Kane and Biz Markie
Fuckin up Roxanne and takin out Sparky
Niggas came in flocks from blocks and blocks
To watch
I'm living a dream give me nine nine with hundred zeros
I want the money longer, vertical or horizontal
The music is crossing boarder we dey come
it art I call it double arp
We keep spinning
Cuz bail getting made bout me
Sold out next to my name on a big marquee
On the album goin off like biz
And when your feet cold, mines is sizzlin'
It's plain to see, niggas can't fuck with me
'Cause I'm a be that nigga for life
This is not an image, this is
and double slugs
make your blood boil and bubble like jacuzzis
Nigga I did Biz like Cool V
Get it, Biz and Cool V
The dude who used to spin for Markie
God
the residual self image reflection
Of this version
Of the goat bitch
Direct link to a king
But they miss marked me
Off sync beatbox that biz markie
Asgard big
Jay sessions
Rest in peace to buff love and prince markie dee
We uplifting your legacy with Rockski
Run DMC
I still remember watching uncle L verses
Album, you know
You know what I mean
And you can just keep on
Making your little punk music
La la la la, your McDonald's commericals
McDonald's apple
and break
Undress 'em, tie 'em with tape, no escape
The Corleone, fettuccine Capone
Roam in your own zone, or get kidnapped and clapped in your dome
We
The Diabolical
Hurdling the obstacle
Poetry in motion
Not another drop in the ocean
Spare us the cutter
Smooth like butter
c bad mother
Clean your mouth with
look
And I agree with them.
We think your songs might need a better hook,
I promise on the good book, it won't hurt,
I won't get it in your mouth.
I
to be great
I remember when I was on street corners in da hood by myself selling my tapes
Philly new York Atlanta
Look at me now with this music
I got
was high
T-you-V-W-X ask Why, you die with blood pourin out your da-da
You want the ri-ri-ri-ride from hardthorn, abide by your crew from a 735-i
Get on your Markie
Ya really need to mind ya Biz
Let me borrow some fans since you actin cool
Snatch ya jewels won't give em back to you
At the booth I
comes to cocaine
The brand is recognized by color
Scheme even with no name
In a crazy world it's difficult to go sane
(Go Sane) hurts no worse than
(Yeah, what was that?) Ayo
That bitch belch like a stinking hog
There's some like, two flies came out your mouth with no wings
Stinking bitch
Fuck off,
and passport
3-pointers, I'm nice with it
Fast break all backboard
First pick, Myles Garrett boy
Black bottle that's Rozay
Belaire by the whole case
Condo
and break
Undress 'em, tie 'em with tape, no escape
The Corleone, fettuccine Capone
Roam in your own zone, or get kidnapped and clapped in your dome
We
and I's biz
Even though we're just some kids
We hope to have our names in your mouth
And when you're at our shows
Make sure you sing along
With our shouts
papers, Biz Markie make vapors.
But see these hos will hate you if they know that they can't break you.
Some of these hos need to shut their fucking
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