KutMasta Kurt - Brothers Feel Fly lyrics

Yo, I bought that album man, it's wack man I'm tellin you, I don't like it I'ma be honest man Honest? I'm dead up, I'm serious Serious? I don't feel it man, the drums are too weak I don't feel the snares Coulda used a different type of sample You're wack man, yeah.. Yo, that kid is wack, his father's wack His group is wack, that's word word black I'm detrimental, I hop up on this instrumental Smack your face with mitts, a pile of grease filled with grits Burn you like Teddy Pendergra**, tap you on that a** I'm Big Jim, shut your mouth, call me Jimmy Steel Don't freestyle, Chemical Bank, y'all keep it real On Lollapalooza, their bu*ts packed with German Lugers On tour dates, stashin mad work in milk crates Rock groups get smacked, speakers dropped, on they back Some damage I'm raw, kid the blood is on your kneecaps Let's get scuffed up, your castle more than roughed up Pockets with royalties, you gets, no loyalties That's word bill, sell your house's mortgage off the hill I'm for real necks, payin crackers for my Ampex Yeah! It's the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly) It's the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly) You got commercial records, no monies in your wack pockets You get jerked, my Master-charge-Card's doin work Eight thousand grills, all these Franklin heads, big head bills You go 'head wrap balogna sandwich in yo' backpack School kids up no joke on record labels, y'all still broke Don't flex at me, who's this kid, standin next to me I got versatile sawed-off shotgun WIC checks with me s**ers I'm android, no time to feel paranoid Blow out your face, pull your skull back, now give me space My wig is ready, disguised, ridin on the subway Baldhead on 42nd Street, down on Broadway With Tony Lou, out of prison, my crew from Rahway That's word Lou, I'm in New York, I'm here to see you Cut back your weak tracks, and vomit on your vinyl wax I'm here, like gladiator, air-conditioned central You smokin embalmin fluid, elephants are mental I got dreams to wear your parts off your cash machine That's in the window me with bags, in the Wells Fargo Changin your incite, I'm high cla**, with appetite You no comp, for roast pigs, I delete Your style is neckbone, my cab rides by your street Yeah! It's the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly) It's the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly) I twist the bums out the project, elevator lights is out Y'all wanna step to Phi B, big like the ? family Holdin your ear, like you handicapped, you can't hear Touch up your young style delivery, don't appeal Follow through, instructions easy for your rap crew That's word, that kid you rapped, sound like b**boo Stinky feet, with razor bumps, tryin to rap on beat I cut your fog lamp down like meat, cut, by the pound Heather B, step to me, with your thin sound Twist your knobs, your engineer, mixed like Baskin-Rob's You on the charts, with just enough to Pop Tarts Publishin checks you signed off, you gets no respect You gets to lease the Benz, cryin loud with your WIC check No sale retail, deposit all direct sales Yeah! Check it It's the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly) It's the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly) It's the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly) It's the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly) Yeah! Yeah.. styles.. retarded.. Brothers feelin fly..