(feat. Freddie Foxxx)
"Keep It Underground" [cut and scratched x4]
[Myk** Miers]
f** that!
I'll beat you down like a Glock when the cops say freeze
So put your, hands in the air and drop to yo knees
And beg me, not to blast a paragraph in that last eye
Murder the ma** cuz I'm k**in' it when I'm feelin' it
My adrenaline is like a drug, my lyric deliverance
Is like a slug, it penetrates your mug
Puddles of blood excites me and entyces me to dislike
Emcees who be bitin' me, ever since the Wake Up
I been climbing the ladder like Jacob, the fools
Be faker than make up, they careers I shake up
Crews I break up like chunks of weed, and you
Punks'll bleed if you f** with me
Mentally the brain leaves visions of Jesse James
Leavin' messes of corpes layin' on your porches, of course
The game is called rap, and the mic I call gat
Cuz I be bussin' at will we know that's ill, yo
[Hook x2: Freddie Foxxx]
So you wanna be an MC, huh
Watch your mouth and don't offend me, huh
You're f**ing wit, real n***as
From hardcore grounds and carry burners
Myk** Miers and Bumpy Knux the money earners
[Freddie Foxxx]
It's been a minute
Since you heard the murderous raspy voice
Spit it at these fake n***as with no remorse
You frontin' n***as never been in the streets f** up the game
How you live in the streets and don't know my name?
It's Bumpy Knux baby, Mr. don't give a f** baby
Mr. twin Glocks all in your mouth, wa**up baby?
Heard you wanna be a MC and rhyme wit the finest
Who's resume is iller than mine is?
I design n***as like a toy maker, call me Giupetto
Spun around and got fake n***as all over the ghetto
Better say your illest sh** now, ride my dick later
n***as still be quoting my verse from Hot Potato
Blaze money in the bank, I k**ed 'em rough, rough
Had n***as in the jail house screamin' "so tough"
If that wasn't enough, just to shuffle through the list
If I had a hundred dollars for every n***a I ripped
I'd stack c notes taller than the World Trade
I'm still eatin' like you platinum n***as, from flattenin' n***as
Hardcore style crosses every boundary
n***as that wanted hardcore jams, they found me
So Shyne you ain't Biggie, Ja you ain't Pac
Lotta n***as ain't Jay and DMX ain't Foxxx
I wish n***as tried to play me and smile in my grill
You'll be the next n***a that I k**
It's Freddie Foxxx baby
[Hook x2: Freddie Foxxx]
So you wanna be an MC, huh
Watch your mouth and don't offend me, huh
You're f**ing wit, real n***as
From hardcore grounds and carry burners
Myk** Miers and Bumpy Knux the money earners
[Myk** Miers]
Who's the, next to get k**ed cuz I'm the best to get ill
Emcees who ain't be knowing they be testing my sk**s
Cuz they don't know the consequences, got MC's hoppin fences
Everytime I drop a sentence everybody stop and listen
They waitin' for what I spit emcees get dealt wit
Went to trial for a**ault with a deadly felt tip
I spit hot lyrics to melt sh**, too hard to give
Me props but I know you felt it, can't help it
You get shot when the fifths cop
It's Myk** Miers, the Hitchco*k of hip hop
Emcees, they flip flop from doing underground to pop sh**
To sell records, but nobody cops it
Emcees get drop kicked when they talk sh**
Every word I spit is toxic, I locks it
The spot gets blown up when I show up
The rhymes I kick is so sick, it'll make you throw up, yo
[Hook x2: Freddie Foxxx]
So you wanna be an MC, huh
Watch your mouth and don't offend me, huh
You're f**ing wit, real n***as
From hardcore grounds and carry burners
Myk** Miers and Bumpy Knux the money earners
"Do you wanna be an MC?"
"All the so-called players up in the rap game"
[cut and scratched]