Afu-ra - Poisonous Taoist lyrics

[Chorus x4: scratched up samples] "Poisonous taoist!" "Afu-Ra!" "The body of the life force!" [Afu-Ra] The body of the life force, scientifical street n***a I walk with a limp, no pimp sign, I'm an urban gorilla Rough and rugged, plus I keep it realer than realer Stomp these streets, I'm known as a mic k**er With vintage lines, that vintage rhyme Black circles around rap camps, I be the lord of the rhyme Whose the prettiest, baddest, most more, know down G-O-D, Blackie Chan, watch me shut it down Incredible, my credit is credibly credible Put hoes up in the track, like heavy metal do Cats act up, I hit 'em with the John Woo Yo, I chop 'em up, hit 'em up, and rip 'em up The Lion King's in town, boy, it's murder on the sound boy So line your favorite cottage rappers to sing it Like Keith Murray; my Def Jams, they will get in ya I slice and dice my competition like a ninja [Chorus x2] [Afu-Ra] Now let me introduce you, to the man, the myth, the mental Influential, bi-centinial, lyrical spiritual material Hittin' you like a literal miracle Settin' fire to the streets, that's my ritual Fossils of my rap book, left for anthropoligists Show 'em how amazing the jazz, I'm blazing the hooks Heavily heavily, intertwine with the melody Deadly deadly, k** the tracks with my medly Give me that mic fool, you only stuntin' and frontin' Fluffin' and bluffin', and ain't sayin nothing, stop fronting The way I shoot the gift, I'm sick with this I make crowds flip, I'm a hip hop therapist And you can do the hustle, freak ya body, bounce But I gotta spit fire, so I'm sure to get ya every ounce I'm worth my weight, and gold and all it's luster Step up in the place (Woo-Hah) like I'm Busta [Chorus x4] [Afu-Ra] Hold up, wait, the sounds kinda knocking Dreaded they up in the club, let's get it poppin' Jolting compositions as if I was a virus One breathe to raise the dead, those try to ride this and of course, I take it back to the hood Afu riggedy Ra, in the hood, raw like a p**no is A wild brother but I dip like a corn fiddle Trey eight, snubnose, type of flow, get a gun, though I'm nasty, as we had it with this I eat rappers, alive, as if my name was Hannibal, kid Perverted Monk, medicating in the cut Flying guillotine raps, aiyo, I cut sh** up Masterin' the art, technique dycatomy Straight up yo, I'm bout to catch a body like Gotti At home in my zone, who feel the ecstasy Explicitly, the lyrical telepathy [Chorus x4]