Mr. S.O.S. - Pump It Up Freestyle lyrics

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Mr. S.O.S. - Pump It Up Freestyle lyrics

[Intro: Mr. S.O.S.] Ayo f** that. Ayo Deacon take this blunt I'm 'bout to {clear throat} I'm 'bout to spaz out on these motherf**ers. Sloppy Seconds [Verse One: Mr. S.O.S.] Yo Where we gonna go in 2004? Even though I set you free in 2003 f** around I'll make you pee in your boxers and jeans When I reach in my backpack for a revolver machine Yeah I said I got a backpack And inside of it is a fat sack and a black gat You wack rapping bullsh** b**hes Oh my God! Who would've thought a backpacker could pull your card? And screw your broad on top of 2X4's Earth, I'm 'bout to take over you by force I'm taking aerial flight, making motherf**ers bury they mic k**ing all stereo types My name is S.O.S. and yes I'm one of nicest alive Busting nuts right in your eye To show you where I come/cum from like when Phife was in Tribe Had to bring it back cause that's the sh** I like when I'm high If you hate on me it's only cause I'm nice and you Dry Like Canada, you amateurs they bite his supply You with the raps you speaking but my task is easy I'm gonna make it cool to use the term "Wack MC" again Rap like me and then I crack your teeth Then you'll think twice before biting the crack of the street again You got jokes but you the wackest comedian And ain't nobody laughing cause I'm jacking your beat again Uhh, uhh, uhh But relax with the beef my friend I ain't dissing nobody, I'm just amping the media I'm in your girl's car scratching your CD up With the back of my keys while she practices eating up My dick And when she asks me to be with her I'ma tell her to stop talking, grab the receiver and Pump, pump, pump, pump, pump me up [Verse Two: Deacon or Natti] Yo are you ready for the j-j-j-j-jump off? Catch you slipping some of my peoples and they cut off Cause we trying to do it like Donald Trump and floss Y'all are f**ing rodents like Sherman Klump's boss Lil' hamster a** n***a be chilling in the whirl pool The girl handling more nuts than squirrel food Dude I'm pimping I oughta get some curls Got the new sounds and we bout to hit the world soon Boom is the blue Gone off from green leaves These Florida trees got we feeling the sea breeze When I'm high, love dimes settle for nines When I'm drunk I'll settle for three threes at one time So I put the bottle down, picked up a sack player Roll a big fat flamer, peep the track slayer Possessed in battles, you better attach [?] [?] I Southernplayalisticaddilac flavor Not with Jack Hannah but dogs, cats and gators They in the fact hate us coming for back breakers [Verse Three: Deacon or Natti] Keep hearing n***as talking 'bout they coming with straps Coming with clips Slowly just seem to keep coming they [?] Dick s**ers with Lewinski hips Not available for hire cause they strictly tips Young astrologists n***as, taking up space Easy Back Oven, n***as bragging 'bout cakes Reaching for tag of the back of they jean waist Bluffing to save face, did nothing and gave chase I'ma go find him the pastor to save Ma$e Bless him with the truth, undress him for the youth Stop him from spitting like he got weapons in the booth War of the Worlds rep, gotta be a spoof Next thing you spit n***a oughta be your tooth Pulling your X-File b**h, gotta see the truth Golden Glove love from cats with no paws Knowing they declawed Betting a few ways, kicking the [?] Why I need heart I can just keep y'alls Coward a** n***a