Dutch Ma**ive - Back on the Map lyrics

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Dutch Ma**ive - Back on the Map lyrics

[Intro] [Sample of Busta Rhymes talking] You know what I'm sayin'? Now, to all those out there, tryin'... Or is thoroughly representin' the hip hop way of life... Bring it on! [Verse One] [Celph Titled] Oh yeah, we back on the map for real We be the one's, no your BB guns can't pierce my force field Ninja suit disguise generals Blood spillin', fillin' up a Olympic size swimmin' pools with inner tubes When we swing sh** You better think quick No it ain't a thing b**h Y'all get extinguished I'm a delinquent who can't think straight or focus Drank from the Red River and ate some locus Celph Titled, Majik Most and the Dutch master Speed the song up shorty, you'll get f**ed faster It really s**s that you're a rapper but that's okay Here's a lie for you, my gat won't spray So pa** the Jose Cuervo and prepare fo' The Rubix Cuban singin' baritone at the concerto I'm am God's reincarnation director Change you from a Flea to a Red Hot Chili Pepper So who's the hot stepper? When you can't walk on lava or get stretched out like spaghetti pasta We got some heavy choppers And some tree chippers Paper shredders that change heads to a wee critter This is the city of Tampa we speak Florida grammar I'll send a card to your grandma with a heart and some handcuffs So how you so damn tough? Put your hand up and get a high five with a ? [Scratch Hook] [x2] "Go get your crew I'll k** every one" "Back on the map" "Ha ha ha ha" "Bang bang bang bang" - M.O.P "Watch me flow, step back and watch my mic blow" [Verse Two] [DutchMa**ive] Yo it's a cold cold world but I don't own an Avirex So I break tape decks and live paycheck to paycheck Beers for all y'all idiots The F.L.A. is dumb hot Catch me in the S, I drive it up and down your city block Traded in my Walkman, now I crush your system Rappers talk sh** but why should I still diss them? Hold tight This is the last time I battle Your wifey's on my dick, too many cats be actin' vaginal Screamin' talk is cheap when y'all can't afford to speak That's why you're three albums deep and none of them got released You think you runnin' sh**? I run up sonin'/sunin' kids like vampire's punishment Jump inside the Honda and hit the blunt again Dumb hot mumblely Y'all sound redundant Word after word and y'all steady sayin' nothin' From the wack rappers, wacker rappers who still frontin' Hide your face, erase your demo tape motherf**er [Scratch Hook] [x2] [Verse Three] [Majik Most] Yo, my whole team is overconfident with content remarkable Pulitzer prize articles, the oracle Smackin' dominoes with Castro Cats awaitin' a maestro Your demo get's thrown a great distance like discus You can't diss us b**h, you're dealin' with a specialist On that break your neck sh** like The Exorcist So yeah, that's right Ha ha ha stick 'em Bust 'em in his skull Now he's rockin' more guaze than a mummy burn victim Slice your abdomen Package up your organs Send them to Oregon! It's our time to war again Equilibrium! I represent Florida like the sunshine emblem Drivin' through your house in an old Chevy Nova Hit you and your girl while you chillin' on the sofa Wanna see d**h? Come a little closer I'll leave you as a paralyzed hypochondriac With both legs detached Beggin' for ice pack Smack the boom bap through your baseball cap Majik Most motherf**ers Back on the map And you need a big a** thumbtack to mark that [Hook]