Prime Minister Pete Nice - Blowin' Smoke lyrics

"Meanwhile, in another part of the town" I got a suicide squeeze on the trigger Hit you like a swig of 100 proof hard liquor The Minister gotta fade ya like a record, I'ma play ya Like suede Pumas, clides, fat laces on a mayor Deliver like a mailman, slide into your crib-o Rather have a limo than your bullsh** demo Things are risin up like a 40 inch vertical Heard you pull wreck, but I run you in a circle Flowin out my voice like a dummy and ventriloquist Hookin up lingo, study like a linguist Stickin rhymes, yeah, I'm movin like a drifter Your rhymes are worn like an old man's slippers Used to have a seizure still edgin up my gold teeth Headin down you to go with Rich and get some protein I'm ??? giving bones so you're chokin I get biz every time I blow smoke and (Can you feel it) --] Biz Markie Blowin smoke, bee (Woof, now you're cut loose) --] L.L. Cool J Rip off the hand, open up your ears, listen Got a fat joint, just peep it while you're sippin Bringin on beats, keep you movin till your neck snaps Got the greenbacks like skins with the big racks On a hit streak like Joe, Joe Di Maggio Take you to the limit every time that I gas a hoe Say what you wanna, say the minister's oblivious Dropped dead weight, yo, now it's time to get with this Rip the micro, torch ya like a pyro Toss ya in the trash like a horse meat gyro I won't front, let you know that I'm packin Check up on the wall the gold records that we stackin You're kinda young like a tight suede jacket Ain't a crooked thief but I mess with the racket Breakin down on a break Daddy Rich broke The wax spins round, I blow smoke Chorus Blow smoke up your a** like a manager Hotel bar bu*ter smooth while I'm havin ya Soundin kinda crisp like a portable DAT, y'all Heads swell settin up for the big fall Hittin up heads like a barber with the clipper Hip-house hip, yo, but I got somethin hipper Swingin like McGillah, fill a pocket full of currency To be or not to be, that is Shakespeare tragedy Handle like ??? shootin like a pistol Pack it like a heavey by the name of Travis Bickle Blowin like the Bad Wolf, send you to the cheap seats DJ Daddy Rich, he got the mad beats Keep it in the gutter, so you can't be mad at me Listenin to 45s of Cannonball Adderley Ain't the dancin fool, I don't jest, I don't joke I just grip on a steel and blow smoke Chorus