Common Sense - Just In The Nick Of Rhyme lyrics

The rhyme I pick up trick up and like hiccup (Hiccup!) This is a good place for a stickup So throw your hands in the air and say hell yeah I Can Beat Mike Tyson plus I'm Fresh er than the Prince of Bel Air And I Blossom In color is how I'm Living see Some pretend to be afraid of me but they're my Public Ene ma Picture this like a cinema, I'm winnin a contest I knew you was a loser when you bought your girl's prom dress I'm just, another one of the nigs, take a swig I can sing, brothers'll work it out without a gig The gold mud in my blood, I'm a stud smokin blunts Not a fuddy dud if rhymes were pecks, I'd be Woody Wood They're after pestly hoes and that's the hoes I s** and don't collects Rockin a Rolex, prefer Wrist Ex instead of Solar Flex But I pump sk**, to build what I can build and still feel good The baddest hoes be sayin', "Oh you're real good" Fella a city dweller, it's poison salmonella Auntie's name is Stella, style as deaf as Helen Keller Nail a flamer with the Hammer for comin' incorrect Not with his grammar or bad mama jama similar, to Bruce Banner So don't get me angry, or maybe you won't like me Kid just in the nick I kick more a** than Bruce Lee's Nike's did Just in the nick I kick on the geek stick, flick a Bic Dick a chick, Slick-er than Rick around the clock I tock to the Tic tac toe, rip up my rhyme my mic's my la**o sh**, I got rhymes comin' out my a**hole I'm in a pole position sole position you're in no position To be dissin' it's a, Rainbow Coalition I'm kissin' a**, goodbye, rockaby, here's your lullaby Like Georgie Puddin' Pie but baby baby don't, cry Feed 'em I heat 'em and eat 'em if I don't need 'em then I leave 'em As leftovers, packin' the weak M-C's into Septober Til I was older, I couldn't hold a rhyme folder Now I dare ya to try and knock this mic off my shoulder If I'm sober I won't hold a skunk, but when I'm drunk I might let her bunk in my bed, heads be sayin' I'm a hunk Like a duck I'm slammin' ham M-C's M-C's I'm servin' makin' the people jump like my man Julius Erving! Those deserving props are gonna get theirs Grip, there's something on your lip, oh that's my dick hairs I'm the biggedy biggedy Bear ya scrub Cub with a demo tape Tryin' to catch me catch your breath before you hyperventilate For air you gots it, your best bet is to take an aspirin I bash it, crash it now you know so stop askin' Cause when you ash I'll make an a** of you and only you see Just in the nick I kick the funky sh** That's why they call me Bootsy