[Pre-Intro]
Weather Man: The forecast: showers heavy at times with occasional thunderstorms today and a high of 89 degrees...
Mr. Cheeks: The cops said to me, yo kid (yo kid yo kid yo kid)
Weather Man: Partial clearing...
Mr. Cheeks: DAMN! Kghhh!
Weather Man: And a low of 74 (74, 74, 74, 74)
[Intro with music, overlapping voices]
Mr. Cheeks:
(Basically, kid)
Word, Ren zone, wanna hit
(Queens!)
This microphone I got some of this
You know how many member LB Tran
Get motherf**in' biz
Along (gone?) your child
We got the funk out the spot
Canibus and A Plus from far sized block
Yo yo yo yo
Big Dog like to dance
[Verse 1: Mr. Cheeks]
Yo, we come through like bulls 'cause n***as takin' two pulls and pa**
n***a, watch your back once you talk out your a**
I pack a .380 in my stash for protection
Family to raise, the world is acting crazed
I never thought I'd make it, it was hectic when I scrambled
On point like a knife I'm takin' life as a gamble
And living in the rotten apple, yo where every core is rotten
All my n***as rest in peace ya see you gone but not forgotten
Now my main wifey, deaded shady chicks
Official Lost Boyz since the year of '86
And f** these crooked n***as I could k** em with the pa**ion
At times I feel like blasting in Jamaican Queens fashion
You think you can f** around, but kid you're just thinking
It's over when I'm sober, imagine when I'm drinking
Without blinking man, I'll tear your crew like pages
I'll rip you from the backyards, parks and on stages
[Verse 2: A+]
A plus the lyrically superb one, spittin rhymes
Off the top of the tongue to burn ya ear drums
Rockin' sh**, make the opposite team call a time out
Knocking n***as three times my size out
The crowd loves me, so when I ain't around they ask for me
I buckle up and catch wreck like a crash dummy
For the fast money, I get up in that a** money
The fact you tryna test me kinda bugs me
I leave crews fed up, like handicap n***as tryna get up
Emcees get wet up with lyrical gun pellets
I blow up the spot when it's time to rock
I speak out my voice box and peak out at a hundred watts
Who wanna cipher, I get dumb
Word to my mother, the father, the holy ghost and Rev. Run
When it's all said and done, I end the service
Concocting the type of verses that average MCs seem to worship
[Verse 3: Redman]
My style is Milk of Magnesia, clutch the 5-speed and bust
The more the merrier, secure the area
My La Familia is ultimate superior
We don't jack cars, we jack for aircraft carriers
I bounce like trampolines when I be blowing the fiends to pieces
Hymn em like sewing machines and Jesus
When the shadows of the barrel pointing out my boy Camaro
I get punished like Pharaoh for splittin'
You're better off singing Christmas carols for Christmas
Because I'm on point like bow and arrow equipment
The president of chicken head conventions
I give you a deluxe Ku Klux lynchin'
I got a headache from the stress, success not wearing a vest
5-11 for being dirty and court's at 9:30
Yo, Mr.Cheeks, I made this b**h call police
She tried swallowing a nine piece
Forgot the warrantee on false teeth
I return like Makaveli on 18 inch Pirelli's
Assault and battery like my palms is Eveready
Sharp as machete's, matter of fact I slap for cognac
[Verse 4: Canibus]
Canibus brings the sickest drama fierce enough to pierce the thickest armor
I smack b**hes who try to s** dick through a condom
Playing with the mic is something I won't do
My only concern when I approach you, is to roast you
I smoke you and whoever you standing close to
And make every man in your crew deny that he knows you
Defeating, n***as like Seagal Steven
Putting MCs in positions to prevent 'em from breathing
I'll make you question any and everything you've ever believed in
By peeping your deepest secrets like psychic readers
What's the matter with y'all, I splatter y'all
Against the motherf**ing wall with these raw lyrics I catapult
None of y'all got the balls big enough to battle
I go On & On like Erykah Badu
A hundred times nicer than the best is
Twice as arrogant as KRS is, who wanna test this?
f** y'all, you don't impress me and no one can test me
An MC so ill, I got AIDS scared to catch me
All that sh** you popping will stop, when I put you in a headlock
And apply pressure until I crush your motherf**ing noggin
I grab mics and push n***as to the left
So fast their hearts end up on the right side of their chests
My hypothesis, is that nobody can see this
Lyrical genius, I got it sown like a seamstress
But if you want to battle, I'm down
If you got nine lives, I'll take eight of them off your hands right now
Step up and get your neck cut from ear to ear
If you survive, then you can cover your scar with a beard
I'm the illest from Queens to the new Jerusalem briddicks
Anyone who ain't feeling my shidick can s** my didick
You need to quit it, if you ain't spitting
More than 50 bars per minute cause you ain't in lyrical fitness
Kicking boring raps with metaphors that's wack
All of y'all motherf**ers need NordicTrack
To get ya weight up, f**ing with Canibus you get ate up
Get beat down and sprayed up, just for bringing my name up
Been rocking longer than n***as twice my age
Back in the days before Bob Marley was rocking a fade
Before Honest Abe signed the paper that freed slaves
Before Neanderthals was drawing on walls in caves
I existed, in the garden of Eden getting lifted
Sticking dick to Eve before she was Adam's mistress
Before Christ created Christmas I been in lyrical fitness
The Canibus is spitting till he's spitless
50 bars of total sickness, you won't forget this
I'm putting every wack Emcee alive on my sh** list
Verbally vicious, telekinetically gifted
Took you a minute, to exhibit that I'm sick wit it
Now you tell me who you think is damaging sh**
Going once, going twice
Sold to that n***a name Canibus
Me and Mr.Cheeks, A+, and Funk Doctor
Hopping out the Hue helicopter to suey chop ya
[Outro]
Group Home and Def Squad
Nine Seven n***a!