Ultra (US) - NYC Street Corner Battle lyrics

(thug) I told you this f**in guy man Yo man, yo B, this is my f**in block, get the f** off (Keith) Shut the fk up You never had a f**in green card in your f**in life You don't any means to make f**in money (thug) What? What the f** you talkin bout mayn? (Keith) You f**in stupid, plantella Adidas motherf**er (thug) Saturday Night Live, John Travolta a** motherf**er (Keith) s** my dick (thug) You f**in spaghetti and meatball eatin motherf**er (Keith) You don't have any f**in knowledge (thug) f** you man, conio man, s** my dick man (Keith) Little Italy ay, you don't know about the.. real estate man (thug) f** you man, what the f** you wanna do mayn? (thug) You wanna do somethin mayn? You wanna do somethin mayn? (thug) Take this mayn (*POP*) take this mayn (*POP*) (thug) Take this mayn (*POP POP*) dead now! (Tim Dog) Here we go with some new sh**, f** the bullsh** Bronx n***az rule sh**, cause we always pull quick, what? Motherf**er back up, you know wha**up Put two in your gut, POP POP what, now shut 'em up Mad n***az wanna have this, murderous status I'm known as the motherf**in rhymin apparatus The fattest, MC of the era, cause terror Could n***az f** with this? Never, but however Many foes try to apprehend, they can't comprehend Cause when they step to me they don't win I bend, break MC's who fake the funk Leavin wack rappers in the back of my truck Then eat some rat poison and I drink some ammonia Came out bein that gastric felonious serial k**er, that you know, as Kujo f** around with Dog and get slammed like a sumo "Waitin to Exhale" like Whitney, you can't get wit me I wanna see that n***a from Uptown, who bit me Bitin, never writin, that's not excitin I'm invitin, all y'all s**ers who like fightin So come on, BRING IT ON, bring your weapon No it's not rainin but you still gettin wettened Smash your f**in a** like a Savage, I'm Randy n***az don't want no beef cause I keep the tec handy Shoot you from your head to your toe You have so many holes in your sh** it spells act like you know (unknown female MC) Well I thought you knew motherf**ers.. Now take a second while I reveal myself into the industry By smokin lyrical chokin teacher provokin MC Clear the way for me, unique, delete the weak As I defeat the claim to be sweet, by keepin it street Lazy poet and I don't got to have them tactics to turn fake rappers and crack addicts, tell the weak hit from my bomb sh** Ooooh! Damn, no stress or contest, the impossible I stand on top of them, no doubt about it, I'm unstoppable Got a train of focus, e'ry track I smoke this Cannabis is nice, six I'm causin a ruckus You can't f** with us, known for keepin it true Not fakin the funk like bustaz, so what you gonna do? I address, I'm better than fresh Mo' potent than stress, now try to test, n***a! (Kool Keith) Yeah f** y'all motherf**ers who need y'all whole album to prove you got sk**s, s** this I'm makin rappers load they apples pack up, move they wagons My style like Bruce Lee, MC's walkin into the +Dragon+ My bald head super sharp, I walk like Telly Savales n***az on a tightrope, they style is off balance Hyper mental like Larry Davis on the instrumental Rappers actin poodle, but I'ma drop the kennel No threats; don't sleep on me you slept on Bernard Goetz With a Berkowitz twist, your projects heard of this My unique style retarded, kids smell the piss With hand grenades I cut your rectum out with razor blades Emergency please, gorillas bleedin through they knees My style werewolf - AOWWWWWWWWWW! I howl on your elevator, open your door, see you late I drop sticks of dynamite, open your mailbox Don't look for guns, I paid some crackheads for yo' glocks Your style berback(?), lion tiger a**crack No need to worry low prices call me Crazy Eddie I put the head to sleep and send that brain to Betty I'm outtie.. five thousand eight