Bad Lucc - Get Bizy lyrics

[Intro: Terrace Martin] What's happening y'all? It's Terrace Martin, ay, so check it out I got three microphones, three of the dopest emcees, a drum machine, two turntables and a mixer That's all we need man, we'll pa** the first mic to Kurupt, yeah [Verse 1: Kurupt] I'm the militant military Bald eagle, squeezer, Caesar, Ebenezer I am the worst (what) That's what my b**h told me after I took her purse and shook her down Looking for a pound in that purp, b**h I'm scandalous, I poke you like deer antlers, cancerous Cause I ain't got no time to play When I ask you a question, answer is the lie where you lay Lay where you die, never wake up die where you lay It's hard to survive n***a or the high where you stay I'm important like the Pope, I'm the king of New York I'm live from South Central, I'm a m**m on pork Kurupt the world's fetish, they feen and scratch I'm multiplied by twenty thousand fiends and crack You add me to music and the fiends react Everybody's addicted, turning bodies to liquid I love your style but I hate your vibe I don't want your wife but your b**h is mine Murder methods of mayhem, tap or dap up the great Arsenic rapper, sodium cacodylate Wizardry, misery, young Merlin She'll love me, I make her walls fall like Berlin You ever heard of a murderer, well you must of my n***a I'm a mixture between Big, Snoopy and Jigga I spit meat cleavers, I'm saucy as Picante My wife's a diva like Beyonce but hood like Shante, motherf**er I run amok on busters They call me Kurupt, forget that, I f** you up I sizzle these motherf**ers in the inkling of a second, murder method [Terrace Martin] Ay yo, where my Compton homeboy at? Kendrick Lamar, haha, yeah [Verse 2: Kendrick Lamar] Kurupt, let me erupt (what) Like flammable gases under the Earth's crust (uh) My flammable pa**ion can get the Earth crushed (what) It's 2012 once I unveil lyrics that can derail a train of a subway entrance Say I bust like Jerome Bennett and that's a must Offended the best, magnum on my dick defending my flesh Seven holes like a clarinet Clarify your worthiness or foresee funeral services Affirmative action pop up on your furnishing Unfortunate future for us to fly free under God's firmament Me versus whosever's dead, that's God's tournament Kendrick the Arthritis, hand that hates to write this What's good, I'm in your hood like workers of Midas Purpose is to be righteous But my Malcolm X is extra'd out like a crip yelling his hood out when he fighting I never seen a key, all I seen was a triton I'm always kicking up dust, I've never been hiking I've always had a licence for this hip-hop Influenced by the rap that vocally said they k**ed cops I'm riding on E with a b**h that pill pop Now that's the irony that I give you when the zip lock Bag and sell it at doo wop, after that pa** the doo wop Lick a few shots for the few blocks that we on For ain't no beat that's flawed or unique so please don't try to Xerox Copy written, n***as bitten My style since I was backflipping Inside can*ls, LA gears with the laces missing Me Against the World in the background, mama had gave me bowl cut in the kitchen Big cousin became a statistic, I chose the right flows and remained consistent Voila, now they got me, haha Expectations is high, Compton or Bed-Stuy To them skinny n***as in the Chi bumping Common But the only thing in common is crime and more violence I play a little game, you say you fly, I'm over fly I'm the pilot that's left on the plane, cloud nine That's where I'm at with it Punchlines till your jaw dented Catapult your Buick till your car spinning [Terrace Martin] Watts up, Bad Lucc [Verse 3: Bad Lucc] Believe me, I'm Martin Luther and Jeezy Hard to shoot and they need me Created from a grain of sand that's rolled up in a rizla First time I met the RZA, I reminded him of GZA Back then I was a cold little n***a painting pictures Avalon did that, [?] six pack Raised by them k**ers that'll never bring them kids back Tiny Archibald on the dirty side of law I was inches from that building till my b**hes tucked the raw, I'm lawless Hell to the supreme, I should beam that beamer for gleaming And blame it on that lean cause I'm leaning The movie is rated R, [?] Shady, huh Dick off his lady friends in a Bentley, huh You ain't seen us in a while, jack Rastic, I'm god and a buggy is a mousetrap You'll become about that, big homies ain't out yet Youngins run the city or the biddy like I'm about that Sharpen my tools, step out the kitchen homie Young Drake from kitchen [?] told me that street sh** is what they missing from me Is so I'm outside with the Eastside Sound of the piece and the heat flies Flat fleece, the fleece bang when n***as get DP'd at beef time Warren, no Griffin You listen, you'll be held accountable to what I'm spitting I'm Johnny Cage with Timberlands mean I come with me You got the blogs, I got the streets I guess we even, not really I'm cut from a different cloth, rappers pissing them off Serving drinks out of gun stores, co*ktails is Molotovs I'm bored crazy in a booth, if I don't get that coupe soon I swear to God I'll turn Hip-Hop Awards to a saloon Move, make way for the fat kid with an attitude If I batter you, I cook that last meal to f*ggot food, on mama's dough You sugar puffs and honor rolls I'm angus like, Genghis Khan in my video You can't stop it though, from P.F. Changs to Pappadeaux I eat a n***a up like Domino's, yeah [Outro: Terrace Martin] Yeah yeah, ay so there you have it Terrace Martin Kurupt, Young Gotti Kendrick Lamar, Compton stand the f** up Bad Lucc, Watts stand the f** up, you feel me Crazy Toones, South Central, what up hood? I'mma get the f** outta here, man I'm done, man let the sh** talk man