Tak - Superstars lyrics

[Takbir] Aiyyo, first things first It's time to shake ground in the eighth round Box battle and break down For the beak in the rhyme tone Jump in the cyclone S-T-Y-L-E-S, yes I know Give the rap fiend vaccine Packed red beam Put 'em up, what the f** You plucked a bad seed Off the wall, spittin' the guerilla tag team What's up now, duck down stuff that can't breathe [Ryu] Yo, you know the routine, the team in effect Please, don't step, you wanna feed one of my pet peeves? The more beef the better; sound gay But you all wanna sleep together, ok In the club we don't sneak berettas Why not? We got so much street credit, the f**in' police let us Now that's bullsh**, cause we don't pack heat So come and get your head crackin' up at me [Hook] Kick it- movin' it's on now Making it punk loud Shaking the buck wild Rapin' the punk style Fakin' the funk pal Duck watch the pump What now? Watch your battleship get sunk down Click (click) pow (pow) Nine (nine) Thou (thou) What? Just what I thought, what's up now? Huh! Huh! *Buck shots through the speaker* [- Inspectah Deck sample starts *stab-stab-stabbin' the track with both hands* [- Inspectah Deck sample ends Huh! Huh! *Buck shots through the speaker* [- Inspectah Deck sample starts *stab-stab-stabbin' the track with both hands* [- Inspectah Deck sample ends [Ryu] Hold it down, never give in Styles, sever your limbs However you want it to end Dirty syringe, I'm Murder Maginn 97 serving them sins A third of your friends get knocked out, turbulent winds Hopped out, what you want? Beer, bourbon or gin I'm a fish; you can tell by the hundreds of fins C'mon [Takbir] Yo- I got a rock style Pivot The Offspring and joke with 'em With a distorted guitar string Who am I? Russian Roulette, Camu Tao Pushin' a 'vette hotter than Quebec in July Area 51, stereo, rive gun live Here we go, S-O-B drop some For the kids in the hall with the new block tape Blast from both angles like Boondock Saints So get up get up and let the sound hit ya Snap, it's audio style picture (Lot electrical) [Hook] [Tak] Who the hell wear splittin' the belly up on a shellfish Shinnin' in your style playin' the fell blitz Drillin' your brain, like rap and video games Feel the syringe for the styles that stickin' in your brain [Ryu] Yo- what kind of sh** is he on Really, his +Style's+ really +Beyond+ C'mon punk f** off; You really gotta be gone Ripped out of your brain Pissed covered in sh** to diss this S-O-B game Son of a b**h I'mma start k**in' for kicks There ain't an Air Force 1 in the globe I can't fit, get it? I'm sick with it, when I spit the venom And it drips up in 'em And it gets the women in a Quick dilemma; We can settle it now And I don't know who did it but they said it was Styles *Buck shots through the speaker* *stab-stab-stabbin' the track with both hands* *Buck shots through the speaker* *stab-stab-stabbin' the track with both hands* [Hook]