Freddie Foxxx/Bumpy Knuckles - Devious Minds (instrumental) lyrics

Uh huh Bring it back baby Feel me on this... [Verse One] I can chop a beat like Funkmaster Flex Challenge any MC's style, so who's next (uh, yeah) I bring it ruff when I be rockin' Even in the south my flow be boone dockin' (that's right) Bumpy Knuckles makes the girls go crazy Roll em like cee-lo, dice with me and Lazy I got a appetite for the mic Like a 450 pound n***a for chicken delight Rappers are suspect, I got styles to dissect Rappers wanna be actors, I direct (feel me) I hate a biter laying in the cut Listen to the lyrical styles and eat em up (check this) I did a style and Tony Touched 50 MCs n***as wanted to here me rock it way overseas I said I'm so ill Deaf n***as be dancin to my jams still I spit sh** dead n***as could feel Stay in my zone to keep sh** sellin Rappers, fake gangsters, lying to the fans - I'm tellin You wanna know if a n***a is real Try to kick it with him, look him in his eyes If he tell you that he got a peal So you can read em like that That n***as not a dawg he's a mutherf**in cat [Chorus: repeat 2X] It's the Devious Minds that'll make em do these things All you gotta do is rock and make the mics ring Don't try to be somthin that your not my n***a Or you might get your fakin a** shot my n***a [Verse 2] Check it out... To the Beat ya'll i make it rock on and on Like night time being around before morn' (check it out) I rock on my own label just like The Artist Without the high heel boots and no I'm not a loud guitarist b**hes enjoy my flow like good s**, then I hit And Freddie Foxxx ain't gotta buy em sh** n***as be promisin' (?) and givin out toasts You can't get a b**h if your broke Blow you n***as out like smoke Everybody wanna rhyme Is it for the love or the dimes (sh**) I know a n***a gotta eat, but at least you could keep the streets And stop loopin up n***as beats I'm sarcastic, sh** I might spit But don't mind me I'm just another MC The only difference is i scrap for mines And don't ride another n***a's lap for mines It's about beats and rhymes You n***as better get it together Before I bring it to you n***a, whatever [Chorus] [Verse Three] Can I get digible for a minute and rock the spot I be to rap what clip be to Glock Cause imma fool like that, I flip like Dominique Dawes I wouldn't mind gettin inside dem draws n***as are fake like radio drops in Hip-Hop It's kinda like wrestling and jumpin off the top - Rope, You Jesse Jackson a** n***as with hope Got n***as in the audience sick offa bad dope You n***as need Beatminerz So you can stop serving up layin a** beats like the Greek diner Check this, it gets exotic, chaotic Idiotic, n***as bout it bout it I got history, B I done rocked with everybody from G Rap to M.O.P The Blast Master, did 'Hot Potato' with Treach Even rocked with Pac... but you ain't herd that yet n***as be screamin that they real Yeah, real b**h, real soft, like you smooth off I like big bu*t b**hes and hot cars And never have ta give a b**h a diamond Cause I'm nice with my rhymin' Thug n***as in the house Snatch up every coward that you see and throw his f**in a** out [Chorus] [During Final Chorus] Real n***as This goes out to My n***as Gang Starr My n***as Beatminerz For my n***as M.O.P Check it out Whaddup Kurupt Mob For underground n***as Philly