Vast Aire - Bra** Knucklez lyrics

[Verse 1: Vast Aire] I'm Vishnu Allah I'm on my din And so his he that's Lord Hakim Yeah it took a few seconds to draw up the scheme We the Moorish Gods yeah that's the team We puff the magic to let off steam, like Marcus Garvey These dudes is godly And in another Life I was Rastafari In the life before that wrote the Code of Hammurabi Hey I'm like Ca**ius clay My queen told me we should mold men into clay Yeah now I'm Muhammad Ali I bob and weave you can not hit what you can't see Yeah I was blessed with the 3 The A, B, C‘s the A to Z's We looking for moons that got the cheese When I sneeze I give life to galaxies [Verse 2: Lord Hakim] n***as better bob & weave like hood rat hoes in hair shops Trust me, Its n***a-saki the second the record drops Got that true Hip Hop like vinyl in record shops These new school dudes is faker than movie props Easy Hops, you ain't trying to get your snot box popped Nah I suggest you muthaf**as kick rocks like beat cops Fam, lay hands like the man with seven wounds Square true, spit sharp from the heart to sever dudes Sample tunes, type to hack a track to d**h With cut & stabs like my lab the last house on the left A golden era terror blatant sk** on wax b**h I'm sick, I central park jog on a track Spit that bra** knuckle rap, impact a spinal tap Bring your playing to an end like d**h in the final act Its an actual fact The Son Of Man show & prove Nah man f** them dudes I live what you listen to [Verse 3: Phizz Ed] You got me twisted like wesely in to wong foo Ya'll two wrong dudes steppin to a n***a who will f** up ya whole crew What ya'll the mascots, for the f*gots In ascots, finna get that a** molly whopped n***a please ease back Before you get jack smacked with the same hand that was just on my nut sack Vast, Lord Hakim and Phizz Ed music dot com Got you worrying about your mom Face it, she in the basement Wondering where her face went, n***as is complacent Even when they ain't done sh** I'm hungry like a crack addict All ways chasen that next hit, no bull sh** That's why I spit, like a callico This is 1 shot and I got 99 to go So hold your head bro, as i bestow A flurry of flows, for you funny actin rap b**hes and you snoot booty negroes Who turn up they noes, some bros Be tatted up, we chat it up Get to hanging n***as like the klu klux You dumb f**s, you dumb schmucks Go on and pluck the strange fruit I put on my sh** kickers before I give wack n***as the boot