Kool G Rap - Jive Talk lyrics

A letter to you s**ers each and every one of you duck mothaf**ers Your girl puckers her lips so I stuck her. You're gellin' me yo so what the hell you tellin' me? Now I'm a show you f**in' with me is a felony. I'm crushin. Tell you s**ers to start hushin'. Shush no discussion 'cause I'm a start rushin'. The payback and I attack the pack that's wack. The black mack: brown like a Cracker Jack. Slick and quick. I got pick a bic to stick, To kick some sh**, chicks I dick with. The One. Give up the fun with the gun, my son. I don't run, I kick mothaf**ers done. It don't matter, I make n***as scatter, Teeth start to chatter, your head I'm-a splatter. Arraigned. Breakin' to maintain and watchin' my name bring you pain. I'm standin' on your blood stain. Hard to hold. I'm bold, I roll real cold. Too much soul, dick made of gold. I rolled n***as to hell; you tried to swell but fell. Now get well or die like a dry cell. A rap villain. Chillin' and I don't give a f** about a k**in' 'cause I'm still in effect when you're illin'. A terrorist. I terrorize like an a**a**in. Yes, I'm trespa**in', your a** I'm hara**in', huh. Talk is cheap. I'm keepin' ya six feet deep, so don't sleep When I creep, you'll leap like athletes. Slammin'. Examine what I'm jammin'. Hey, I don't play, I burn like a gamma ray. Labeled prey, played to pave the way. Mothaf**ers are scared straight Check this out The creature feature, searcher, preacher, teacher, Taught to rough the cap to rap to ya and reach ya. Musical master, mind reacts as a brain that has the Knowledge is answered. You're just a Kit Kat, on some Tic-Tacs, but I'm a Big Mac, 'cause I'm G Rap. Fully equipped with a hip hop lip, my memory bank is like a microchip. My ba** will give a shake, or if not quake, It'll make you, s**er MC, want to jump in the lake. 'cause I'm murder, homi-cide, color. Must k** and destroy with excitement and drama. Weakest, I'll seek her, you become weaker. My art is the smoke, my materials and media. So rap alert for ya, devastate the area. I'll give a grain of your lyrical mania. Power source, and a G enforced, your headboards, and they could be rap wars. So come one or two, 'cept for a few. Doubles and couples and I'll grip 'em like tools. 'Cause boy, you can't handles this, none or any, one or many, some or plenty. 'Cause I'm not the stranger, just the rhyme arranger. Highly explosive, keep out, danger. Packin' Gs while you try to beat me, But for these MCs who go on and wannabe Gs. What I write is in a smoking section; here's an injection of rap perfection. So what the heck, you select my dialect. Next man's ca**ette, yo, reject and eject. 'Cause I could use a technique, smart as an antique. Beats that I repeat show you that I can speak Totally, probably, you rappers want to copy me. It takes strategy just like Monopoly. Figure it out: Cool G Rap is about makin' armies and crews look like Girl Scouts. 'Cause when I start rappin', I keep the people clappin'. s**ers that be yappin' won't think that this'll happen (Yo MCs, all wannabe Kanes and Chuck Ds, skeeze, Fs, Gs, Rock Shantes, Ks, L-M-N-O-Ps hit the backs of my reeds, facsimiles. Freeze, catch the wave, later; rappers got the alphabet But I'm an Alpha Beta Kappa, rappers, they form my alumni Step to this if you're prejudiced peace!)