Rob Lewis - Da Fundamentalz lyrics

[Nine] I waste MC's like time Who wanna know the incredible original Nine Burnin MC's at degrees of five-hundred farenheit Drop em back to celsius, lord help me it's insane Pop like tops on 40 o-z's Make cheese, while you sweat me for the proceeds I survived cause I strived Then I co*k back my fist and PUNCH out ya insides Who's left, cause Nine got rights I squeeze tecs like spandex mad tight (right right) One on one, don't you make me buck you with my gun, baby I'm tired of playing all these games It seems like I-yah can't get time out anymore My name is Nine and your name is mud When I come down, I-yah haffa come down raw Just say, ohh, ohh, listen to the Nine my style is fat Just say, no, no, s**er MC's know they rhymes are wack Just say, oh take your best shot, lemme see whatcha got Ain't got a lot, run from red dot, spot like cop Oh lord, I got the drop, shot the blood claat Non-stop, pop pop pop pop goes the gat Still fat, still black I still rap, and yo' a** is stilL WACK Who's that n***a with the booyaka? It's the one and only Nine and I'm doin ya Weeded daily, always pack a half ounce G Put springs in your boots and still can't outbounce me (Check one check two check three) Check as many as you want, but come check me, N-I-N-E Chorus: Nine (repeat 2X) Oh God I got Da Fundamentalz Nine'll grab the mic and rip up a instrumental Oh God I got Da Fundamentalz Nine'll grab the mic and rip up a instrumental [Nine] Rock, the body body, rock the body body Nine wants a hottie that treats me like I'm daddy daddy The format I use, steps on blue suede shoes I guzzle booze then mic check ONE TWO I shake and bake the world, rearrange Like the chemical jheri curl, drink til I earl *throws up* Excuse me, where was I? Stay fly Never ran, never will, do or die Chocolate thai got me lifted No mistake, hit like a earthquake, son I'm gifted N-I-N-E, came up in lights I rock mics, down with street fights and chalice pipes n***as know my steelo I'm 40 Below Deep flow, act like you f**in know Infrared beams, baggy jeans, mic screens Caffeine and nicotine makes me fiend I'm mean like Joe Greene Down with a team, on point like the damn laser beam It ain't no f**in dream I pull styles out my a** like doodoo (sh*t) Nine makes MC's quick quick flick the Bic to the izz Light, pull smoke, blow it in your area With jaws, like a pitbull terrier I attack instrumentals with Fundamentalz Off the head, no pen, no paper, no pencils With the device I'm nice, if the price is right I tear the motherf**er up all night Bomb diddy bomb ba dang a dang I got slang like Wu-Tang not many can hang Chorus [Nine] For those who are unaware This is another Fed Production warning To all wack, s**er a**, punk a** crews And all you industry n***as who was sleeping Now's your wake-up call, punk.. Bob Lewis, Nine, Tony Stoute, Al Blount The crew, is in effect You cannot stop this Protect your f**in neck