The real....remix More MCing, and DJing From your own mind, ya know?
"I-I guess right now we should start the show"
Please baby, we gettin G's, you know the steez baby Ain't no if's, no and's, no but's or no maybe's The vibe'll drive you crazy, almost break your neck Again we take respect, remember Just To Get A Rep? Sportin baggy pants, mackin stackin finance Bold figure, older nigga, yo watch me advance Used to be a small cat, now I'm all that and more Puttin the pressure on, catchin rep from the dog Pure secure, injectin like the fuckin doctors Smoother than silk, more milk than Louie Pasteur Ask yourself, "Do you wanna mess wit this?" The specialist, turn the page, I bring the rage when I spits Then the set gets wet, I bring the crowd into a frenzy Leave you sleepin wit the fishes, see how them niggas envy Authentic vocal tone, transmittin like a mobile phone Welcome to my ghetto my man, hope you can hold your own I make you first name To The, last name Curb I gets grimy, stimey, who you? Revenge of the herbs I ain't seen you out here, and you ain't got no clout here Your style don't come across, you lost this bout here At five-eight and three-quarters, I be the warrior sargent Gang Starr, rippin clubs and bars Super-star studded, buyin rings that's flooded On the low, countin dough in this rap life I love it You know my steez
"You know my steez" "Let em know, do your thing dog" "Keep it live" "To the beat y'all"
Check check check check it out y'all You best to back off, you jackoff Rage next to blast off Get wacked off cuz your half-ass is soft I bring it to you rough and rugged, chuga lug it Mothafuckers act like they hate it but mothafuckers love it I'm the raw dame in this war game, don't get your jaw tamed ?Or broken? I ain't no joke and I ain't jokin You know my steez when I stand and deliv-de-liv-deliver-er-ies I Tag MC's like Freeze and burn em like the third-degree Now wouldn't you agree, that the three of us put together Make it mo' better to make mo' cheddar Puffin get higher than four centers Ask Coretta, Scott King on the spot Who's the Doc like that man uh, Mart King Keep march-ing, cuz when it comes to me and The Guru Like my man Charlie Brown said, the rest of y'all is doo-doo The butcher, the baker, time to meet your maker Tell you to your face, you ain't nuttin but a faker You're cheesy fo' sheezy, next to me you're measly Believe me, I kick that shit so sick I'll make ya queasy Now easy, Premier scratch that shit like fleas Three men and The Lady, and uh, you know my steez
"You know my steez" "Let em know, do your thing dog" "Keep it live" "You know my steez" "Let em know, do your thing dog" "Keep it live" "You know my steez" "Let em know, do your thing dog" "Keep it live" "You know my steez" "Let em know---" "The mic"
Yo yo yo (who are you?) The monotone, melodic microphone Poetical mac-milly from Philly illy-syndrome Clouds'll form, which starts the wind storm And the young Gang Starr posse front in full Kick off like a gauge, then seek the stage In a seek-and-destroy mission to burn and blaze Vanish a few, K-U-R-U-P-T, R-A-G-E and Guru Let's simplify it nigga, just don't try it What I recite, ignite mics, my voice encourage riots I don't talk it, I live it, I don't give up, I give it I bring it, bust it, don't sing it Get in your veins, melt mics and spit flames Get in your brains, explode like propane Yo Premier (what) tell these niggas this our year Flow through like a breeze, murder MC's wit ease You know my steez, steez, steez, steez
