L-Fudge - Wordsworth, L-Fudge, Mike Zoot, and Hazadous Freestyle (A Trip Below) lyrics

[Intro: Wordsworth] Yo, yo. Check it out. For Eddie Ill and D.L. Yo, Words from Punch & Words. Check it out, yo. I'm gonna do it like this. Yo [Verse 1: Wordsworth] Shout out to my moms and to my fam It's like it's my time when I just start to jam I'm glad the mic's on the stand. Or, in other words If I was on the stage, to have it in my hand. Now you'll be a fan As I become one. Yo, I'm rhyming until the Sun done But, yo, check it out. This is for my income I've been there. I know I got rhymes. I got Lyrical rhymes like this. More and then some Yo, while you do, we live the culture. It's all over The rabbit's foots, clovers, and crossed fingers and salt over shoulders Stood the heat and turned the kitchen colder. There's twenty-bar Addiction quotas. You'll feel out of place like an eviction notice Gimme, see-it contracts. The politics of rap I'm always approached by the wack ‘cause opposites attract So go all-out despite your sk**, indulge Your willpower. But just leave some power to write your will I'm dead-serious. I'll take John Doe. See me and change The combo from rap to The Giants playing The Broncos Readers digest it through procedures suggested That ain't new. It's second-hand like being ambidextrous Demeanor dispose of my foes in arenas With their bodies wrapped in plastic like my clothes from the cleaners So much that traffic jams at crossroads With lost souls. Words is hitting like Morse Code Turn your top concerning submissions in addition. Subtract you From the division. I'll hold my own like when I'm pissing And rappers in cyphers, stop fronting. I wouldn't see Half y'all rhyme if I ain't come back like I forgot something What up? What you want to do? We do it like that Freestyle like that when I rhyme like that Yo, a lot of cats, they rhyme and they try to have style But they wack and they just stuck in denial Yo, a lot of cats want to rhyme, they swear they have style But, yo, they just stuck in denial [Verse 2: L-Fudge] Check it. They just stuck in denial, but I'll milk you like a cow You see, you're like unneeded weed and I get you plowed You see, I rhyme from then to now, from now to then I transcend. I'm inside a ghost's body, spreading bucks Like shottie. Courtesy of Rakim. I had to take that metaphor But, back in the days, I used to do me some better who*es. But now I'm all broke, you see, ‘cause Rawkus is taking all of my dough So now I'll have to get props just like [?] To get enough dough. You see I'm stuttering, but these words that I'm uttering Makes everybody want to back up and start smothering The whole stelo. I got this rap game sewn up like [?] Remain we low. He tried to diss me and I see hoes That try to see me. You see, you can't see me as if you were Stevie Wonder. But, you see, I'll eat you up like Wonder Bread Lyrically, you'll be dead. You see, I'll flow straight off of the head I'm a FED: Fully Equipped Dominican. [?] like some cinnamon Trembling. Heck, it's 12 o'clock and I'm a Grem-e-lin Getting in your skin like melanin, hemming ‘em as if I was a tailor You see, in this rap city, I'll be the mayor. I got flavor As if it was, uh, 31 Baskin Robbins I'll have a b**h slobbing my balls ‘cause it's like that You see, I'm quicker to the draw than McGraw. You see I said it all and I said it now. You see, everybody want to diss me Mentality's too shifty. You see, I'm better off being busy Trying to make my music. I bruise kids and leave ‘em with bruises All over their bodies. That's how it is. Your b**h s** my dick sloppy Had her calling me papi because I'm from Española And, try to diss me, and I'll have you sailing in your yola A yola—that's “a boat” in Spanish. Lyrical bandit My freestyles is similar to the material called granite You misunderstood it, meaning that ya misunderstand it But, you see, I'm not bionic. I'm [?] Hispanic I'm his panic, I'm your panic. You can't handle me You better switch up your strategy if you're gonna battle me Because everybody be like, “God damn.” My cellulite saddle be I mean “cattle be.” Let me correct myself, but, yo, that's my strategy Handling me is very hard as if I was [?] You see, I work in construction. You don't know what it is, so it really doesn't Amount to nothing, but I'll relieve your suffering like Bufferins Everybody said that, but, still, I'll win it as if it was head-cracked In Ceelo. That's how it is. Reside in the B-Low Uptown Manhattan. Origin is Latin. Laughing at Those who claim that they surpa**ing. My motherf**ing raps is Longer than the neck on a giraffe and steadily capping Nosy emcees as if I was a cop. You see, even my own name is Known as if I was Sir Lancelot. I bang a lot You see, ‘cause I'm from the medievals. I used to do Credit card schemes and boost me mad close from Sméagols You see, I fly through lyrics like a seagull and you can't see me Lyrically, you can't boo me as if you was The Fugees And you get props, but you're not The Fugees and I'm L-Fudge And nobody can quite catch wreck just like L does I asked you, “Have you felt Fudge?” You'll be like, “Hell yeah” But, you see, I got to erupt the whole atmosphere And then make y'all ask me permission to breathe some of my air You see, I'm too nice with life. I reveal your underwears I'll leave you on the floor, I'll reveal your drawers And your b**hes' bras and I get it on and I give ‘em the balls I put in inside of a mouth—my testicles. You see, I was sent here By extraterrestrials. Your mentality's a vegetable You see, you can't f** with Fudge. You see, I'm just Steadily talking off of top. Ayyo, I'm barking As if I was a dog. But, yo, I'll play leapfrog And, yeah, I'm motherf**er that, that, that, that, that Ayyo, Eddie Ill & D.L. throw wax at n***as And penetrate through your Pelle Pelle. I make more money Than weed sales. But let me give to my man Mike Zoot [?] [Verse 3: Mike Zoot] And, me, yo The light-skinned, chunky kind and I ain't looking Young youth out, the 9 out, sees Flatbush, Brooklyn [?] jerk, chickenhead well-seasoned Never shook. Well-done upon my bedspread, cooking I hope this time, the young girl's not hooking But that's a whole ‘nother book and chapter—we'll be back to That sh** another time. For now, it's onto to rappers or Emcees E-T-C-period. I feel I have ta Address the situation we be facing. I'm pissed off Pacing outside the hip hop nation, impatient In anticipation of replacement, file My application—help wanted in the East location Now I'm employee of the month, smoking blunts. Guesswhyld Is the label that fronts my backing, submit tracks in Clumps. Hammer out all lumps and make it bump To climb out a series of financial slumps to get dollars But we're beast marks on dog collars in the events that follow Yo, you see me here today but I won't see you there tomorrow On some new sh**, son, Mike-Zoot-done-paid-his-dues sh** Uh huh [Interlude 1: Hazadous] One, two, aight? Hazadous, I.G. Off and Hazadous [Verse 4: Hazadous] I'll catch wreck from the inner cities to the fawns. I'll tuck Mics and hit emcees with more problems than their baby moms Natural-born k**er strike with the force of a gorilla You couldn't see me on the mic if you was my reflection in the mirror On point like a hatchet. I'll keep it moving like traffic My bio got more wild life than National Geographic I fell in love with hip hop. I think she bust my lung. I was Putting hickies on my snares, finger-popping my ba** drums Hip hop ‘til I die with my partner from Queens. You probably Think it's a dream the way I get my flow on like a stream I'm not Dutch but I'm the Master. I'm the next hip hop chapter They playing the part like a actor. I go the distance like NASA I had fun, n***as, gets none practice. It's dope and now I'm done Stay out my face or catch a bad one like Bill, son Understand? In the '98, we don't play no games Strictly with the .45 blowing you out the frame You know my saying: I'm leaving n***as in flames Rhymes that sound insane. Yo