Tim Dog - BX We Invented Hip Hop lyrics

[Tim Dog Various Ad lib] [Verse one] I give a f** about the next n***a I'm in the game for the check and the s** n***a You think you hard when they calling you the best n***a? Put that Tec to ya neck Get out the Lex n***a Driving down the boulevard in BX n***a? f** your b**hes Send your a** home wet, n***a Ill n***as from the projects Little n***as carry Macs and Tecs Homicidal for respect With bigger hearts than King Kong k** a mother f**er on spites the theme song For having that bling on New York city streets is worse than Vietnam Ring the alarm Tim Dog is back All you b**hes get naked All you n***as stay strapped I ain't KRS, but it's return of the boom bap n***as talk sh** get a hole in the fitted cap Just like that Just like this Give a f** about your feeling n***a s** my dick All you f*ggot a** DJs won't play my joint I ain't gonna talk I'll let the nine prove my point And you cornball rappers wanna do a duet n***a bring you b**h and bring your check How you been in the game for a year and you a vet? When I look on the charts I don't see no threat The most hated emcee Even hated by my brother f** the source They can keep the cover I'm the illest n***a alive "Why?" you say I dissed the west coast and I moved to L.A Yea! I don't give a f** mother f**er I spit bombs n***as got beef with Dog sh**s on We can throw hands or bottles or shoot guns n***as want to keep it on the stage and spit one But I gotta tell you when your a** is done I'm a burn emcees like the sun Ya'll n***as better run When Tim Dog come to gun I be dissing emcees for fun [Verse two] A lot of n***as be biting sh** They run around in the game like they mother f**ing nice and sh** Everybody know where Snoop got the D.o.g And n***as know DMX got the bark from me But you all want to say I hate Check my resume b**h Go back to '88 First Dog in the game First Dog with the name First up in the b**h I'm in the Hall of Fame You in the Hall of Shame Ya all the same While I was born to fam I'm in the Hall of Game Ya'll some mother f**ing swagger-jackers Running after the sales of these crackers And these f**ing backpackers And now you want to hate on me Mark my words n***a I'm the original D.o.g I'm the sickest n***a Got the baddest b**hes, n***a n***as hire me for dissing Cause I'm quick to diss a n***a And quick to stick a n***a for his f**ing riches, n***a Digging on your f**ing grave Make you sh** your britches, n***a I rain on you n***as to hurt you n***a i ain't drunk of the Cristal High off the purple I'm focused, man And I'm hungry as f** And you f*ggot a** rappers done pushed your luck I'm a get you for your j**els And get you for your truck I'm a get you till your very last God damn buck And show the industry that your wack as f** BX mother f**er What's up? [Verse three] Up town n***as are the craziest West side n***as are the craziest South Bronx n***as are the craziest From Hunts Point to Co-op We invented Hip-Hop BX and we ain't gonna stop Our body guard's a Glock and not a cop Our rhymes are hot, your rhymes is not Ya'll mother f**ers stop 'fore your a** get shot I'm the D.o.g. and your a** is not [Tim Dog ad lib]