Low Profile - Make Room For The Dub.B.U. lyrics

(Alright, is everybody ready?) (Ah yeah!) (Young man went out and made a name for himself) (1-2-3-4 - hit it) [VERSE 1: WC] Dope, not complicated but educated This here's contiminated This ain't another record from a s**er duck crew, but My name is Dub and Aladdin's on the cut With another dope jam and a brand new style By the way, I'm from the crew called the mighty Low Profile But definitely pertainin to wack rhyme reciters You're just a new jack punk, professional, mind of biter I'm on a journey knockin out punk sissies Nah - hell, I'm about to get busy Take this microphone, plug it up and then I say, "Check 1" Who be the next dummy tryin to get some? Son, this ain't a circus, my name ain't Bozo I diss s**ers and I hate Olde Gold I'm like a victim, rollin on Daytons, watchin my back And keep strapped, so I can aim at a pack Yo, this one's a funny one, I take a look around All these wanna-be Dubs in the L.A. town Who try to roll like me, talk like me, even try to act like me It doesn't do you no good to tryin to bite me Friend, you mighta seen me at a show or two Openin up, a new artist just payin my dues But now I finally got a chance to break through Yo, move back, punk, and make room for the (W) [VERSE 2: WC] I noticed lately at the hip-hop shows A lotta rappers on stage got the crowd sayin "ho" And the girlies say "aw" in between in rhymes Song after song, yo, line after line "Say ho" played out with bell-bottoms and afros What's the matter, you're scared to come original? Nowadays the whole rap scene is outrageous Amateurs, wanna-be's steppin on stages s**ers know I'm comin and I'm steadily creepin Here come my manager, "Dub, they keep sleepin" That's the violation of the capital L-zero-w P-r-o Oh no, here we go With another one of those crazy styles Straight from the W of Low Profile I got a catalogue of rhymes and lines for you and your crew Yo, move back, punk, and make room for the (W) [VERSE 3: WC] It's understandable you don't know who I am You never heard of me, you really couldn't give a damn If I came with the funkiest lyrics in the world Yo, to gain respect, do I gotta wear a jherri curl? Change my name to MC Soul-Glo? No, I don't think so, I'm down with Low Pro Featuring DJ Aladdin Or better yet the turntable a**a**in With another dope tune, a funky groove to make you move See, it's better when it's smooth A new jack, no, don't compare me to him I ain't new to this, rappin is a lifetime Still I require????????? That brother WC, y'all, he ain't no joke Like a criminal braced and shackled down like a slave Watch the rudy-poo new jack punks get payed s**ers flappin at the mouth, but they ain't droppin knowledge Sounds you're outta Cal State Watts College The ba** of my vocal tone drops like a cannonball Who got beef, we can go some, y'all We can battle till sundown, now do you wanna nut up, punk? It don't matter, I'ma chew you one up Like a barbeque rib I send your weak crew home And when I'm finished chewin on em I'ma throw you the bone You want peace, the best thing to do Is just move back, punk, and make room for the (W)