Mark the 45 King - How I Get Down lyrics

[Verse 1] Before the dough came, my whole aim, was blow like propane Control the whole domain, and then show no shame Make rappers go train, they so lame, playin with no game Put em on the low flame til they can't claim no fame I got, the range, better, stay in the slow lane I make the flow change from hurricanes to a slow rain Your thoughts are so plane, I rearrange your whole frame Until my whole name grow out your brain like Rogaine Letter by letter, I put words together Once merged, apart never, they be heard forever And then I grab a pen and stab him in his abdomen And smash him in, throw his mic like a javelin Then I explain verses, that remain on the surface At times it get deep, but I never defeat the purpose Never go out, to go the dough route, forever hold out I never sold out, for any amount, no doubt [Hook] That's how I get down, so tell me how you like that I hit the town, hold it down on a tight track I start a party now - everybody like rap Haters are mad cause they gave the R the mic back [Verse 2] I like to hang where e'rythang seem to happen at (y'know?) It's Ra's habitat, I'm like Ya**er Arafat And yes I have a gat, snap like a Israeli A terrorist I never miss blowin up kids daily I step to writers, and let my virus hurt the closest I'm sick as hepatitis and worse than tuberculosis Pull out a pen, like a grenade, and drop it quick I strike again and I'mma get paid, exotic sh** You know the God ra be, hot as the Mojave Swing like King Usabi, my posse be kamikaze On the corners like I'm homeless and I, don't know where home is The bonus, is where the next open microphone is Me and my team, vision like a radar screen Intervene and yo, cut the mic off, cause Ra fiend To show the whole world some of the things I seen Then blow it up, like Idi Amin, yaknahmean? [Hook] [Verse 3] I do a thang thang, I write the songs they sing Make sure that they swing, from New York to Beijing Put your thoughts in the sling and your brain is gangrene Pull in the ring, repeatin and sayin the same thing Xerox, zero, no match, you ditto Copy machine, couldn't reprint my litto My new style, that I produce now's beyond two-thou' I knew how, since a juvenile, to make a ka-pow When the night's fallin, I can hear the mic callin I like ballin, I cut back like Mike Jordan This is for y'all while I'm spittin literatures Lyrics'll ball like Allen Iverson dribble the ball They hopeless - whoever approaches my high explosives My vision sadicious, and freestyle's ferocious I wrote this, words flew over my head like a locust I turned the beat up, sat back, and stayed focused [Hook]