Freddie Foxxx - I'm Ready lyrics

You, you, you (You rappers can't be like Fred) You, you, you (You rappers can't be like Fred) You, you, you (You rappers can't be like Fred) A-a-and you hate it This is a rap session And I'm the man at the podium speakin Keepin you dancin and freakin I came alive from the world of streets, baddest beats And bashed up a lotta MC's to find my seat So cover your chest, protect your head If a rhyme catches your mind sleep, you fall dead I kick it wicked like a wizard, rhymin every letter To beat me, you got to have a army or better Bum-rushin other rappers like Rhyme-O-Cop This is a contact sport, it's called hip-hop You s**ers can't hang when I'm rhymin fast Cause your mic doesn't have enough power to last But when I slow it down to a moderate speed You catch a migraine headache and a nose bleed Whenever I break wild, you call Jake You try to slow me down, but your first mistake I always keep my eyes on a worthy opponent Cause it'll really be a trick to see em lose, won't it? I keep myself ready and prepared for all I handle whatever call, too strong to fall When you see Freddie Foxxx, you know you'll be entertained When the show's all over and the sound remains In your brain and you walk away sayin my rhyme Feelin good like a man that don't eat swine Fall asleep at night, and you start to dream If you was a paid rapper on the hip-hop scene You'd be heavy on the neck, and your pockets are fat But bein a rap star's a bit more than that You have to have a listenin ear for new ideas And speak your words fluent, so everythin's clear The mumblin jumbo's a comical gimmick That the devils make money off and s**ers can mimic When you run out of rhymes, gonna stand there sweaty 'Cause you wasn't ready, like Freddie the Foxxx I'm ready Street rappers hear a style that they like a lot When they make that first record, their rhymes are hot Not hot like you hear it on the radio all the time But hot like stolen rhymes Whatever's whispered in darkness, has to come to light So imagine what would happen if I gave you the mic One night, and you recite somethin you didn't write If it belonged to Freddie Foxxx, you might have to fight I throw jabs and rights, left hooks and hay-makers Only luck can duck the bone-breaker You're caught in a vice grip, tight and squeezin Whinin and cryin, beggin and pleadin I'm lyrical and mystical, I want you to know Cause when you gear up to come to a show Don't wonder why thunder hit my stage It's Freddie Foxxx on a rappin' rage I make rappers real nervous, give em the jitters Give em 'E' for effin' and I beat up the quitter Hold my hand around his neck and I grab him by the hair Then Karate-kick him like Mataka bear Rappers boast and brag about their lyrical sk**s But they all shut the f** up when I break ill Cause I take all races and house both s**es They got a reason to sweat the three X's I'm ready