J-Ro - The Next Level lyrics

[Intro/Chorus: E-Swift] Welcome to the next level The L-I-K-S, what makes them motherf**ers so damn fresh [Verse One: J-Ro] You's a n***a everybody diss cause you can't bust this You got a bad name like Dick bu*t-kiss Welcome to the next level, of rhyme flowin Scratchin', hookin' up beats, and ho-catchin' Everytime I come home, I got fifty messages I only call back the girls with big big breasteses Ooh, I got bitties, in all the major cities The safest way to have s** is right between her (tittes) I beeped this fillie from Philly, we was puffin on a phillie She started actin silly, so I popped her like a willie I'm like Cucamonga, I'm way out And you know I got the flow that'll never play out I was raised in Cali just like a palm tree I rock the mic from London to the Mojave Tash, Diamond D, and the Ro to the J Amazing feats happen when we come out to play [Chorus] Welcome to the next level The L-I-K-S, what makes them motherf**ers so damn fresh [Verse Two: Diamond D] Out the funk bag of tricks Just for kicks, I represent with the Liks So here's the fix, I'm hittin harder than a brick Tricks get slick, and face the dick real quick You better recognize, adjust your bifocals Your style is local, I sit on beach in Acupulco I put words together like Peter Jennings And skate on motherf**ers like Peggy Fleming So woe to those who owe From 10456 to 90210 I'm sippin' on pina colada Two blocks off La Cienega, at the Ramada But hold up, I'm not done yet I get hard like the perms pimps wear on Sunset So recoginize when you feel it D.I.T.C., you can't steal it, aight [Chorus] [Tash] My men, my men Welcome to the next level The L-I-K-S, what makes them motherf**ers so damn fresh [Verse Three: Tash, E-Swift] For all my n***as in the places with blunts in they faces Off the two turntables with the Anvil cases It's the L-I-K's that blaze and amaze that [Gots to roll deep] in these crazy-a** days But the Alkaholik rhymer, King Tee and Diamond D Got the gats pointed at ya like Richard Roundtree Cause nineteen ninety-four is the year we overdo it With the house party beats and flowin' like fluid Cause ain't nothin' too but to do that sh** and print it But it's all about the loot so every move is documented And vented, by the man born for lyric kickin' Coolin' out with your b**h eatin sweet-and-sour chicken Exceeding Visa limits if the tab's on you I get drunk and reminesce about the sh** I used to do We used to take out crews as a hobby, after two in the lobby Me, Mike D, and my beatbox Robby Sendin' kids back to the lab for more practice The only way they'd win, if we battled to see who's the wackest Ten years later, still a hip-hop slave A prehistoric b-boy makin' beats in my cave The L-I-K-S, what makes them motherf**ers so damn fresh It's the liquid flows that we spillin' on ya Broadcastin' live from Southern California, and we out [Chorus] Welcome to the next level The L-I-K-S, what makes them motherf**ers so damn fresh