Vengeance is mine against mine enemy And I will rise against thee with the force of a thousand men And in your fall, I will remind you of an industry designed to see me fail There will be no shelter against my rage I will approach you with no good intention And reign down on you like hell fire and destroy you!
I destroy all you MCs till my mouth goes dry Or either one of us die I'm in this motherfucker's head like B-R-A-I N, I spit one, then spit again Then I turn like a cobra and spit it at his friend You niggas afraid of me, oh that's so gay to me Shot a nigga for shaking my hand too long, don't play with me I make niggas wanna be hard and thugged out Baggy pants and black (?) looking all bugged out So let me tell you what a thug about When I walk into a room it becomes Dog Day Afternoon And niggas break the fuck out Bring ya rabbit's foot, I'll blow your luck out I'll kill all you niggas and pull a navy hearse truck out So save your wake ass verse for daytime talk TV Cuz I'll return you and let you keep ya jewels and chalk BVs My heart is dirty and skeevy Man, I would see any one of you niggas if I was Ray Charles or Stevie, ha!
(Can you, feel me?) Can ya feel me, nigga?!? Can ya feel me, nigga?!? (Freddie Foxxx, Bumpy Knux) It's Bumpy Knux, nigga what? Come on! (Can you, can you, hear me?) Can you hear me motherfucker?!? I'm talking to you! (Cuz I am in...side your head)
(?) uncontrollable and wild And I stand like I stand with two fours in my hand I bring back the running man I hear voices in my head that say "Bumpy can't, damn" So when I hear niggas say I can't do something, I get pissed off Cause I'm Poke-man, digging your wrist off Trying to find the main vein that turns your exist off Real niggas waited for my flow Like they waited for Mandela to show So all these phony ass niggas out here know Your faker than a nigga fronting like his back got hurt at a fender bender - I call her, send her She'll flip ya, so them craze up in ya She know you like it on your belly, got them gays up in ya So I say: La Di Da Di, I'll shoot up your party If you ain't heard by now, you'd better ask somebody Niggas trying to cut my throat, I'm still spitting from the neck If you still disrespect, you'll still get the Tek
Come on! Get the fuck off me, nigga
(Can you, feel me?) Can ya feel me, nigga?!? Can ya feel me, nigga?!? (Freddie Foxxx, Bumpy Knux) It's Bumpy Knux, nigga what? Come on! (Can you, can you, hear me?) Can you hear me motherfucker?!? I'm talking to you! (Cuz I am in...side your head)
You ain't no motherfuckin thug, you ain't shot nobody I'm wild like niggas up north that ain't got nobody I'll put the infrared on ya, leave your body all dotty Or I'll 6 and 7 piece ya, leave ya forehead all knotty You niggas can't spit on the tracks that I spit on You niggas are scared of the type of niggas I shit on You wanna ride my style? Get on I'll take you through so many one sided singles ain't no more joints to sin on These rap niggas are mi-dad (?) on How do you niggas ride in the car with this nigga, with that shit on? I'm sick and tired of Nore and his "What, What, What" Write some rhymes, nigga, or get his shit up up up I'll beat you till your face is made ugly like Biz If you ever open your mouth to ask me what a Memph Bleek is This week is, Bumpy Week celebrated And be glad that the bad kid from the neighborhood made it The last album you dropped, kid, hate it Man the only thing I'll do for your life, nigga, is complicate it So come at me with that sideways twisted talk I'll put the 4 pound in your mouth, B, and lift your thoughts I'm the wildest nigga in New York So nigga shut your fuckin mouth up when I talk Come on, I make Reverend Run Reverend Walk And kill female MCs like a chicken hawk It's Bumpy Knuckles, baby, ha!
(Can you, feel me?) Can ya feel me, nigga?!? Can ya feel me, nigga?!? (Freddie Foxxx, Bumpy Knux) It's Bumpy Knux, nigga what? Come on! (Can you, can you, hear me?) Can you hear me motherfucker?!? I'm talking to you! (Cuz I am in...side your head)
(Can you, feel me?) Can ya feel me, nigga?!? Can ya feel me, nigga?!? (Freddie Foxxx, Bumpy Knux) It's Bumpy Knux, nigga what? Come on! (Can you, can you, hear me?) Can you hear me motherfucker?!? I'm talking to you! (Cuz I am in...side your head)
Yeah Turn it up That's right For my niggas Here we go
[Verse 1] Some real niggas have gone away... never to return Stay forever on wax 'cause the mics they burn Outta sight, outta mind, never does it mean outta might, outta rhyme So I return to make it hot for those who cannot Smile down on me niggas, while I rock the spot Is there heaven for a nice emcee Crushin all these suckers dear God don't be mad with me I don't mean to hurt nobody, I just wanna rock the party And give you a taste of what's left, before I see death Watch a nigga back, 'cause I don't trust nobody Left hand hold the mic, and right bust the shottie Sendin angels to guide me through, in the white drop top When they ride me through When I hit the pearly gates, will they take my tax Will they let me rock the mic, will the beats be phat Will the rappers write they own rhymes up in that piece Will the fakes get locked by the cop police Or will I have to deal with A&R's who don't got no say I hope it don't be that way, tell me
HOOK 2X: Who Knows Why The reasons we live and the reasons we die You can't figure this one, so why try God help my soul as I testify And I wont lie
[Verse 2] Now as I'm lookin in the mirror I see myself Handsome with attitude, so momma gratitude I put the pressure on emcees I make it hard for ya, with total, disregard for ya This rap shit is raw not to be touched The ingredients if tampered with, could get you f**ked up No one knows this secret I hold like Moses Given at birth, now what it's worth, it's more than a million six Let me spit it to you niggas, while my rhyme exists Listen, separate the real from the wishin If you bust at me and miss, you gon end up missin 'cause on these rap niggas styles I be shittin, pissin Leave you niggas lookin dumb like two niggas kissin I'm the true hardcore underground messiah I'm the kinda nigga street thugs can admire You never see me gettin robbed, jumped down and whipped out Or cryin 'bout a deal with no money, flipped out I get off my ass and make it happen I'll stick up the world if I aint rappin So why do I exist, tell me
HOOK
[Verse 3] May Allah shine down on any emcee That'll stand on stage and hold a mic with me May he give you all the flow of the ocean water And some nice hand skills to prevent slaughter My lyrics painful like bullets from a rusty tech Bumpy Knucks, nigga what, and you must respect All the true shit that I reflect Niggas know I exist only to wreck Won't let the verse loosen til you sign the check I won't be fussin at ya, but bustin at ya I treat all my rhymes like they devines Niggas spot me like a UFO I turn my mic on and resurrect the livest flow So if you askin me, why am I here To clarify hip hop loud and clear Real niggas, tell me
Yeah "Industry Shakedown" I call this one The Industry Shakedown Word up Uh huh "Industry Shakedown" Now the reason I call it... the Industry Shakedown Is cuz alot of niggas have fucked up "Word up, Industry Shakedown" Now what I mean by fucked up is They don't wanna see the game played right "Word up, word up" So me and my nigga Pete Rock gon show y'all how to play the game right "Get ready for the Industry Shakedown" "Word up, word up" Word up, word up"
[Verse 1] Uh, uh I can't stop rockin I was born to keep it hot Fought through miles of pain just to get what I got Without crying, took mad shots without dying Man they know when I'm in town mad heads start flyin Who ever thought that I would be dealt the hand That would make me the most feared lyrical man Ask Tone how it feel not to be able to sleep I was layin on him in his dream squeezing on the heat I kept the pressure on him, now, I'm Universal Now he played this money game called hand, reversal I remember when I thought that I could rock at Def Jam While I was watching other niggas caught up in a def scam I remember when I stepped to Lyor, I should've blown him Cuz that cracker been a crook, ever since I first known him Thought I'd sale to Atlantic But there's niggas workin for 'em that'll sink the whole label Like the fucking Titanic What I gotta do is run some dick up in Sylvia Rhone So she can hear Bumpy rockin on this microphone Maybe I can Elektra - fy her brain Show her how I take love and turn it to pain I never been an ass kisser I call it if it's right, if rappers aint gay or dikes Then they unpluggin your mic My shit is cordless, I'm thugged out and wild as shit And I'm comin for my crown, it's Bumpy Knuckles baby And it's... [scratches] The Industry Shakedown
"Word up, word up" Ha! "Word up, word up" "Ready for the Industry Shakedown" Yeah! "Word up, word up" "Industry Shakedown" "Word up, word up" That's right nigga Me and my nigga Pete Rock gon show you motherfuckers how to shake it down You ready for this one? Check it out
[Verse 2] When I spit hot potato, I was peepin Tommy Boy But didn't wanna be the the next act that they would destroy See labels be all on your dick, when they see you have some paper But I flip the game, cuz I pull the capers Got way more nut, than date rapers You better be tryin to get yourself an office Way on top of that skyscraper I bring the ruckus, your money lookin proper Have you ever been stuck up by a hardcore hip hopper Forgot ya signed to Cappa, a real Donnie Brasco A nigga wit mics and tape recorders, all up in his asshole Speakin of police, I found a Interscope And when I looked through the hole what I saw was dope I saw a new nigga, sittin behind a big desk Wit a big head and a big chest And a big belly, talkin on a celly Hatin real players, cuttin niggas throats Like he was tryin to be the mayor Then some niggas rushed in, punched him in his mouth Threw him down on the floor and started stompin him out Screamin fuck Steve Stoute, serve street justice Cryin on the floor wit your lip all busted You went out like a pussy, fuck the dough you got Cuz wit all that money nigga, you still can't buy a heart Only gangstas play the part I'm still around, to bring you, the Industry Shakedown
Ha! "Word up, word up" To the Pete Rock, and you don't stop To the Pete Rock, and you don't stop My nigga Pete Rock, and you don't stop
[Verse 3] I never felt like I should have to hold back anything I say So I make the kinda records Red Alert don't play Because I flow too hard, my voice is penetratin Or maybe your crate needs renovatin, I'm used to hatin That's why I'm hockey on you niggas, stickin and skatin I heard about the Blaze Battle, they asked me to be in it But to not consider me one of the 50 great So I reviewed my tapes, figured my position Sat and thought for a minute, grabbed the phone and said listen I sell less records than some niggas out wit a deal Gettin more cash and all my diamonds is real And you want me to battle for a Rolie, that I'ma take anyway Better leave me the fuck alone Bumpy Knucks don't play It made me laugh when I think about how Gary Harris Tried to play me than got fired and all fuckin embarrassed Fly shit is that he saw me, wit a smile, at a club Reached to shake my fuckin hand and, brought back a nub All them temporary spots will be filled time again You can hate me now but I will rhyme again Fall down climb again, more wild, more corrupt Still spittin more shit, more fire, more abrupt And I'll never put my two guns down Why's that Cuz I need 'em... for the Industry Shakedown
"Word up, word up" C'mon! "Word up, word up" Yeah! "Industry Shakedown" That's right That's what the fuck I call, a Industry Shakedown "Word up, word up" And it's a lotta motherfuckers out there that I didn't name in this Motherfucking song but I tell you this much "Get ready for the Industry Shakedown" Don't think I forgot motherfuckers, cuz I reserve my options It's Bumpy Knuckles baby, ha "Word up, word up" And the Chocolate Boy Wonder I show you niggas a fast way, to six feet
Ayo, turn the, turn the music up some more In the headphones for me Check it out [c'mon!] You ready, it's Bumpy Knuckles baby Sendin this out to my niggas All them hardcore street corner, wilders Ha, ha, Freddie Foxxx baby That's right, Diamond D baby
[Verse 1] Whoever thought that I'd be Mr. lyrical flows nice Like sunsets on the Rio Grande Grantin after sisters checkin out they can can My lyrical ability keeps them real niggas That listen to hip hop feelin me I keep it underground, sound's a buck China Even in Japan they know, I'm the ultimate Spit at me verse, like it's my last one Slow ones, fast ones, I blast past the fake ass ones You see, I don't think no nigga's nicer than me I'm not conceited, that's how I read it, these niggas heated I dissect your verses like science class frogs I see your rap records is swine, like hogs Now cipher, that's like turnin down Janet for Michelle Pfeiffer See Freddie Foxxx aint wit that My shit is hotter than cayenne pepper, the mic wrecker The lethal weapon, I keep you high steppin It's not my fault that niggas listen to me And wanna rob shit, cuz I do my motherfuckin job kid If you a thug then you recognize what you see before you Eyes and ears said Freddie Foxxx is here I been waitin it, doin it, sayin it Rollin by my motherfuckin self with my burner cocked slayin it And I aint seen nothing that could make me believe There's a nigga rappin liver than me, you feel me
[HOOK 2X: Billy Danze] You in a class of your own, Bumpy's in the zone Leave Bumpy alone! Bumpy get it on Bumpy spit chrome, Bumpy hold a throne Now, Bumpy bring it home!
[Verse 2] I wear Rolex watches and alligator shoes Where niggas thought devil jeans was the big news I had fifty miles on my brand new Benz in '89 When you wanted me to critique your rhyme It just was all right Niggas brought rappers to me, for approval Now I give you sixteen bars, for removal I punch you in your temple make you stagger like Yeltsin Over hand right to the brain is what you felt son Then I take off my belt son Show you what a whippin is, what a true real mic rippin is You fake niggas can't make it hard for real niggas cuz There's no defense for the truth so what the deal nigga No matter who tell it, real niggas always prevail Just like a fake nigga always fail Niggas livin in a fairy tale, until they get beef Then he want peace, bitch, you just a rap pussy You comin just a lyrical lunatic I make it blacker than midnight at 12 O'Clock noon and shit I keep rollin like the black Navi with them Micky Thompsons Halogen lights, I keep my flow tight The new Bumpy shit is like the new Jordans when they come out Got emcees rappin wit they gun out Memorize lyrics and I spit 'em to the needy Send love to my nigga Tweety, and can you feel me
[HOOK]
[Verse 3] I treat 'em like what stick up kids is to dark alleys What's Slick Rick is to Bally's What played out NY niggas is to Cali Runnin from the ill shit I do what record labels don't like, the real shit Money is energy, I'm hyped up Step on stage with that bullshit, get hair wiped up I be up in your crib, with my two black sigs in your ribs Takin everything you got to give The black Robin Hood I rock for niggas that can't afford Rolies Ride around and in tagged up stolies I keep the truth like the Holy Qu'ran Here's a game plan, ambush, best attack, hit off my man I make you niggas listen to some lyrical shit Some miracle shit, some empirical shit Now I'm in flipmode, I got my gun in your brain And make you run you ch ch ch cha ch ch ch cha chain Bumpy plays no games, it's all real here Can't get my gun in the club, I keep it real near I'm harder than a bulletproof vest wrapped around a steel pole Six shots all through your body like real soul James Brown or the Meters I'm gunnin for you no talent rap style eaters When Diamond D blessed me I had to come rugged Or unplug it, only true thugs can fuck shit
Feel me, I bet you've never seen a nigga that get raw like me Gun in your face, put niggas on the floor like me Who go to war like me? Flip a whore like me? Put the squeeze on rap competitors like me Get less and make more like me Hunt a nigga down like the Predator like me Keep the Macs in the drawer like me How many niggas really raw to the motherfucking hardcore like me? It's Bumpy Knuckles baby, I got lyrical styles forever My endevor is to smash you punk motherfuckers I do it to young niggas, old niggas, rock niggas, soul niggas Scared niggas, bold niggas, since '89 I told niggas I'm still ripping with this timeless shit While you niggas spit that offbeat rhyming shit My life is full of hard times and shit So all I rhyme about is whooping niggas asses and crime and shit
[scratches by DJ Premier] "It's time for this real nigga shit.." "Bumpy Knucks.." "Ha, hah-hah" "Niggaz can't see I.." "Fr-Fre-Fre, Freddie Foxxx with the twin millis" -> O.C. "Ha, hah-hah" "Bu-Bu, Buh-Bu, Bu, Bumpy Knucks.." "Niggas can't see I.." "It's time for this real nigga shit.."
[Freddie Foxxx] When I was small I made pause tapes for "Super Sperm" Rappin in high school, drinkin forties, smokin sherm Listen to Cold Crush and Grandmaster Caz spittin Gettin somethin in that niggaz ain't now gettin; feel me Remember everybody wanted to be "Peace, God, Divine" Real niggaz kept they attributes, right through '99 Peace to the god Taheem, watching over me White chariots and horses, get me over rough courses While I silence those voices that doubted my ability to rip, through these young ass niggaz When I walk into the Lyricist Lounge, lyricists lounge cause niggaz know that Bumpy Knucks'll tear this mutha down Cause the rawest most illest shit, make up my sound That's why I stay gettin money, like them niggaz uptown I'm in your face - nigga whassup now Fuck all that peacemakin bullshit I heard you spit you like to pull shit That's all bullshit, you keep your nine on some full shit You say you bust it, that's BULLSHIT! You know the illest MC that ever did it The rawest nigga that ever chewed up rhymes and spit it In the new millenium cities, watch what I do I'm bout to save hip-hop like Ghost did the Wu
Chorus: Freddie Foxxx (repeat 2X)
For the DJ's, the rappers, the writers, the breakers The movers, the shakers, the beat, the makers What's stronger than hip-hop niggaz they can't take us if we deal with the real, and shut down the fakers
[Freddie Foxxx] I'm proud to be a black man in my existence, so fuck the Klan I ain't blinded by your jewels and your million dollar checks I'm always ready for whatever's next My road in life ain't easy cause I'm complex You know the real, nigga turnin these fake hard niggaz to grasshoppers cause f'real here comes the realest, when I cock the manstoppers I remember talkin to Big Poppa; he said "Foxxx, you the illest," (uhh) I make the realest nigga feel it Got a little mob of niggaz I send to rob niggaz Take all that fly jewelry, and give it to my moms I keep the industry up in arms like Zack La Roche cause they hate to see me comin, with this too black approach Through the hardest time in hip-hop, I stayed afloat So let me give the media some fly shit to quote I'ma always be a nigga, lookin through your eyes So nothin that you do to me should come as no surprise I continue bein raw dog, puttin in work I drown a bitch and get away, like my name was Captain Kirk Motherfuckers wanna hear it raw, Bumpy make it hurt Step on stage, rip the whole shit down and merc'
Chorus
[Freddie Foxxx] What fucked you up is that I'm so nice and don't rehearse On any record I'm the king of the third verse It's +Strictly Business+, if it's +Personal+ I let you know I hold your heart until the Lord tell me let you go Don't need advice from no corny ass A&R that never filled a milk crate with breakbeats, I keep it raw nigga straight street To my comrades in L.A, L.A., L.A. I still got the bulletproof - Pelle, Pelle, Pelle Keep the music underground as I reiterate twice Tell niggaz to they face, I thought you wasn't nice Kick my ass? Nah, not likely; out mic me? Not likely, stay on the sidelines like Spike Lee Niggas know Bumpy like to flow all out Microphone, gun in hands nigga, go all out No exceptions to females I ride 'em giddyup How bad I wanna fuck Brat, since she pushed them titties up It's the underground sound that designs the street Freddie Foxxx designed the rhyme, Premier designed the beat
Chorus
[scratches by DJ Premier] "Bumpy Knucks.." "Niggaz can't see I.." "Fr-Fre-Fre, Freddie Foxxx with the twin millis" -> O.C. "Bu-Bu, Buh-Bu, Bu, Bumpy Knucks.." "It's time for this real nigga shit.."
[Freddie Foxxx] Yeah, uh-huh, you ready? It's Bumpy Knuckles baby, we tear this mothafucker down! Welcome to the underground where hardcore niggas are found We're beatin niggas down, make you world-reknown Where street beef set off once, never forgiven Where real niggas never give up, we fugitivin That's how we be livin, where niggas vibe on the raw shit Come out, your face fucked up and get your jaw split Nigga, we pick your teeth up and put em on a string like bones And send your punk ass home alone I got stock in this microphone you innuendos I get you beat the fuck up and played like Nintendo Maybe smoke like the hydro endo, you niggas is hookers I hit you wit the four pound tuckers Have you ever seen a rap stampede? Well bring em underground, and I'll run em down You know my reputation, my voice over disco beats is violation New York walk, New York talk And when I blow you niggas dime, I use my own chalk So watch what the fuck you say and what you do For real, niggas bring it to you and your whole crew Bring in baby, you ready?
[Chorus] I got stock in this game Got a bad reputation for bringin the glock to the game You know my name So if you ever come across me wrong Just remember the words to this song
I be hearin mad MC's, I study your rhymes And I noticed that you niggas is just wastin time I don't take it to wack niggas, they self-destruct I take it to nice niggas and FUCK THEM UP! So the fact that you be shinin makes it even better for me That just leaves more cheddar for me I keep it blacker than Cadillacs in '69 Total eclispe your record and stole your shine Sixteen bars of homemade moonshine rhyme And I still had you mothafuckers payin me mine Wassup, watch me snatch a hundred grand on you niggas No tax while you loudmouth braggin-ass niggas fake jacks Yeah I'm nice wit my mothafuckin hands And I bust my heats, Freddie Foxxx celebrity box out the beats My flow is so cold Start a rainy day snowin, my voice fertilize your thoughts to start growin It's Bumpy Knuckles and raw niggas incorporated The real niggas love it, the fake niggas hate it You mothafuckers ready for this? Check it out
Chorus 2x
I go one two three four five, I make it live Simple-ass shit like that be soundin wack But when I spit the lyrical terror that makes niggas hide they jewels Wild niggas start cockin they tools I got my ethics from the older school, if you wack then I spit it Something to steal, I come get it If Freddie Foxxx want beef, niggas ain't wit it Some niggas wanna try my style but can't fit it I be hearin niggas that sound like me But ain't never ever really put it down like me Plus them niggas ain't really underground like me Street reputation, love town-to-town like me You bitch-ass mothafuckers I squared off in the mainstream World, actin like a mothafuckin girls I wet you like a jheri curl and you'll explode like uranium The only thing you'll have to fall back on is your cranium You soft niggas could never be iller Than the holemaker, holefiller Bumpy Knucks keep it realer, the bloodspiller Don't fuck wit a mothafuckin killer, TURN IT UP!
Chorus 2x *on second time, last line is "THEN ALL YOU MOTHAFUCKERS'LL BE GONE"*
[Verse 1] In the brightest of days, I can find the night If I just close my eyes and I squeeze 'em tight Second time in this life, see familiar territory The hustle is my appetite the cash is my glory I'm darker than midnight, I'm bright as in noon Searchin for my melodies, follow the moon Every city and town, that I run up in my travels My game is like a earthquake, agitates the gravel I put it down in Michigan, set it up sweet Niggas used to call me second none Pete I'm hard at the feet, I start the cream like scatter brave Down in Cleveland, doin my thing they call me Don King I came to New York, out of West VA. They call me Shorty Locin, I'm deadly and I don't play Like Willy Watson I fucked 'em and I knocked 'em Straight askin bitches wasup, like Jesse Cook Uh huh, in Alabama runnin Moonshine I'm rap killer, you wouldn't find a iller hundred dollar biller I'm number one in Augusta, like J.C. Like little Herman from Pittsburgh you pay me Like Zack Thomas and Frank Molten I be the young nigga half the death, leave his ass floatin Like Bumpy Johnson and beautiful rain Without the street life I'd rather be dead, I swear I been here
HOOK: Feel Like I Been There I seen murder scenes, drugs I been here before Send my blood to keep it raw, stay hardcore, c'mon, yeah Feel Like I Been Here I bust guns, push nines, and snuffed out lives >From the south to the city only tryin to survive Bigger than nine to five, I been here before Bold and ready to die, I been here before Cocked and ready to spit, I been here before Names you shouldn't forget, they been here before, uh
[Verse 2] I studied science, social studies, and math At the school of hard knocks, if you follow the path Aint nothin funny here son, so if you wanna laugh Harlem World's red illin, I put three in your ass Cuz it's more about this money even more than that I'm tryin to spread it through my own hood, givin it back Like Munky Jackson, I be back son Cats are blast, screamin my mac, it's black son Shit I keep it real nigga I'm cold-blooded when I iceberg Spittin game off my lips every word like none you never heard Like little Willie from B-More Uptown, Saturday night, little C-More Ill like the Infamous I scare to death Had them niggas up in Buffalo, holdin they breath Malcolm X Boulevard pushin that P Hoes callin me ferrels, and they smilin at me That's what they wanna see, they call me ribbons up in Louisville Gator wing tips, 44, two spare clips In Chocolate City I was Catfish Any nigga ever disrespect me, he get his head split Like Reverend Mills and from Chi-Town Can't nobody ever ever deny, how I laid it down These mini games like souvenirs Man I swear to everything that I am I know I been here Uh huh, c'mon
"I am not now, what I was yesterday.. and I am not now what I shall be tomorrow.." "I mean, this shit is way out of control" ".. so you do yourself, an injustice, to judge me by yesterday, when I have moved on.."
[Billy Danze] Since it's a brand new year, I got a brand new attitude and a brand new way to come at a dude (SALUTE!) You remember the staff, that mastered the fine art of lettin the nines bark on the ave (NOWWWW) If you don't know me then don't act like you do And if you plan to blow me, you bet' not act like you want to (Criminal instincts!) I still got it If a thick bitch try to throw a pick, I'll still spot it (Glory and ??) Foxxx, I'm a survivor I raise hell with a .25, to show you I'm live Cousin - I put my hand on the good book, and overlook the deepest crew, and split a motherfuckin throat (It's the "Murder He Wrote") I stick to the plan, I'm close to my fam - and I'm a very emotional man I told you that Danze, was out of control ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? - the masta!
"People! People!" "I am not now, what I was yesterday.. and I am not now what I shall be tomorrow.." "This shit is way out of control" ".. so you do yourself, an injustice, to judge me by yesterday, when I have moved on.."
[Lil' Fame] C'mon! When the last time you seen a nigga that blast rhymes on some rap ??, fill and bust the gat quick, fuck that shit I'm the nigga you love to hate, the thug that wait fo' yo' ass in the bushes with the AK-e First I call yo' name, whisperin Then I +LIFT+ yo' ass and have a snub-nose whistlin You can think shit's sweet cause I rap I still split a nigga head like a canteloupe (BITCH!) and I'm dope cause I master the shit, plaster the shit A true hip-hop nigga, the last of the shit Lil' Fame, B-K born, been doin this since the days of B-D-K, and TJ Swan Nigga you choose, when I do 'em boom so bash and bruise and confuse 'em, wait a minute did I lose 'em? I'ma put it down baby, fuck these kids I will splash 'em and ask 'em who the fuck I is? The masta!
"People! People!" "I am not now, what I was yesterday.. and I am not now what I shall be tomorrow.." "I mean, this shit is way out of control" ".. so you do yourself, an injustice, to judge me by yesterday, when I have moved on.."
[Freddie Foxxx] That's right.. My heart is colder than icicles in Poland Niggaz hate to see when Bumpy get mad, what I be holdin Try to shit on me I won't hesitate, blow out your colon Never registered a gun that I had, I like them hot and stolen And I don't leave no spares like I was bowlin Strike a nigga chest, right in the pocket like Ryan - Nolan And I'll run you down, stomp yo' ass, and leave you swollen Pick up your cash, take all your burners and keep it rollin Triple X raised, Bumpy, I be John Blaze That venom shit that I've been spittin from, back in the days Smashin MC's, countin the ways, you want it? Blowin rappers up in bunches like, rap bouquets I'm such a real nigga I take it to +Blaze+ and tell 'em make it "51 Greatest Niggaz of All Time" or I shoot up the page I'm still the nicest nigga, fuck my age Hand to hand I whup yo' motherfuckin ass, live on stage I never claim to be, somethin I'm not I'm a thug, and I die with it, like it or not All the real niggaz wild with me, feel my rhyme Now who baldhead rules in ninety-nine?
[F] Who keep the real shit bangin in ya? [M] The masta! [F] Who take a block and start swangin with ya? [M] The masta! [F] Who still mic ready, send it to ya? [M] The masta! [F] Knuckle game tight, black and blue ya [M] The masta!
"We need real niggaz to bring it back.. so this is what it comes down to huh?" "I am not now, what I was yesterday.. and I am not now what I shall be tomorrow.." "I mean, this shit is way out of control" ".. so you do yourself, an injustice, to judge me by yesterday, when I have moved on.." "We need real niggaz to bring it back.. so this is what it comes down to huh?" "I am not now, what I was yesterday.. and I am not now what I shall be tomorrow.."
"I mean, this shit is way out of control" ".. so you do yourself, an injustice, to judge me by yesterday, when I have moved on.." "We need real niggaz to bring it back..
What's mine's I love and I fight push to shove Hand to hand but you can't stop the love You push to impress and I leave you with less It's real love for the mics that I bless no quest' *repeat*
[Lil' Fame]
Can't stop the love! I know you sayin I'ma young nigga Don't get it fucked up cause I move with them thug niggas From old ? to life we straight sparkin light Bring light to the darkest nights (M) Blast (O) Blast, P in your area Make a move and them cats might bury ya Now that your trapped and your fuckin with thugs Let me tell your punk ass what I love I love to see motherfuckers, that show no love And start speakin out like a bitch when you catch em in the club I love, when a slug cat shut down And then try to post up when they damn near cut his ass down I love, trying to reach all parts of the map On a Ninja, with a big Buddha bitch on a back I love, cats that rap and still drip checks Like your man Lil' Fame, Bill Danze and triple X
Chorus
[Billy Danze]
Aiyyo, you know what I love (What's that?) It's when motherfuckers assume That they ass can't get popped at 12 o'clock in the afternoon I got the balls to come through your walls, like (Boooom!) Have an orgasm every time I clear the fuckin room (Niggas is gone) Nah, not just yet I need to see you son of a bitches sweat (I love) What I got, son, my shit is prop', son With Prem' in the drivin seat and Freddie Foxxx ridin shotgun (Stop son!) Here is the ultimate Somethin I love is when thugs be bumpin my shit (I love) Niggas with heat, (I love) niggas that's deep Niggas that regulate the streets (sho' nuff) Mic blessin, Smith and Wessun caressin (First Family) With the Desert Storm impression The lesson: I advise if your not ready to ride on the homicide side, nigga slide
Chorus
[Freddie Foxxx]
I love beats that are hardcore, dirty and raw I love takin niggas burners when they scared to draw I love plottin on my enemies, I love to attack I love beatin niggas down when they rhymes is whack I love seeing emcees struggle to make themselves something that us real niggas love to hate It's too late, I love my Ninas and I love my ?fours? Blowin holes through the project doors in ?knive wars?, nigga I love the feeling, and the rush that I get From ?Sam? run the Rolex watch with the diamond begets I love, how my life was intact without a deal How I kept the newest chromes on my automobile I love the fact that rappers make the dough, without a flow Soft niggas, that I stain, like piss in the snow I love the fact that I survived through the roughest of times And break the mic when I want, with the roughest of rhymes Its a luxury to see me emcee Its so hard, this lyrical brutality, feed's a nigga's mentality I love, when you niggas claim to be great knowin your mob ain't never lettin shit, what the fuck is this? Niggas bustin shots on New York, I get my vest on Twenty rhyme clips in my mic, I get my bless on Loan soldier standin on the front line, I fear none Excuses that you give me for your lyrics, I hear none You niggs ain't no real emcee's You Sam Goody ass niggas can't write without suckin down trees So I love, laughin at you niggas, while you clappin at me I split your head shot from your man, while he's slappin at me I feel the hits from your rounds Your hollowpoints make a nigga wobble, but I won't fall down *echoes*
[Lil' Fame]
Yeah, you motherfuckers see it, come on!
Chorus
[Freddie Foxxx]
Aiyyo, aiyyo, aiyyo, for all them sucka ass niggas that don't know, when I crawl up out the whole, and I got M.O.P. with me, baby, ain't nowhere you can run (to the life) ain't nowhere you can hide. With hot slugs at both sides. Split your back open wide. Niggas from the East Side
