Lyrics:
an' MC on the court like a ball player
Proven by the lyrics on the mike as I extend the cut
Making music, as the girls move and shale their butts
Got you counting from on to ten
And by the time you get up to nine, your ass is left behind
Cause you can't mess with the lyrical master rhymes
Send
It's your boy, ISYG, let's get it Y'all know what this is, I'm Comin' for your
Heads and puttin' em on my wall Ha, c'mon Mike, yo, let us cook
Yo,
shoulda peep the signs
Cuttin off a bitch the only time a nigga drop a dime
And I really mean it swear to god man that shit aint no rhyme
Did she really
get left exhausted
Man I live on planet rhyme I be up here saucin
Raw bars they been raw need gordon Ramsay on a track
Bounce y'all like pin ball y'all
am Wonder Mike, and I'd like to say hello
To the black, to the white, the red and the brown
The purple and yellow, but first, I gotta
Bang bang,
am Wonder Mike, and I'd like to say hello
To the black, to the white, the red and the brown
The purple and yellow, but first, I gotta
Bang bang,
of hearing, I'mma scrub them with Ajax
With maximum drum so behave and remember
You're a slave to my sound wave
Faster rhymes I mastermind I have to find
teacher.
You die by the rhymes and the streets'll eat you.
The words are a gift we will never flaunt.
That's why we're gonna get everything we want.
Just
pretty dawskie, pulled up on it
Got the number, now I'm scorin', Mike Jordan
Fuck them niggas, you know them niggas-type boring
Fly with me, 'cuz you
feet
You see, I am Wonder Mike, and I'd like to say hello
To the black, to the white, the red and the brown
The purple and yellow, but first, I gotta
(can I get a rhyme to go)
Hell yeah, Pac, I'll sit back, straight up design it slow (uh)
They hate to see a young nigga (come up)
Another punk (run
and a girl
A few grams in a pipe to make your head swirl
You must spread the word of the master teacher
Or you die by the rhymes and the streets'll eat ya
soft.
I was sittin' on the corner just a-wastin' my time
When I realised I was the king of the rhyme.
I got on the microphone and what do you see?
and a girl
A few grams in a pipe to make your head swirl
You must spread the word of the master teacher
Or you die by the rhymes and the streets'll eat ya
Yeah, ATLiens style on y'all ass
(Do or die, Aquemini)
(Killer Mike, Roc-A-Fella collaboration holla)
(Young Hov' in the place to be, Big Boi in
for me, I don't even know these yutes
Bitch I got the juice, I ain't push up on the roof, ayy ayy
Mike Amiri, Michael Jordan, yeah, you know I'm
City light, got me buggin and trife
Some die by the gun, some die by the knife
It's alright, like a game of spades I'm trump tight
Premier hit me with
SHRAP!
commissioner Gordon rock on
Tony Touch why'all rock on
Kid Capri yeah rock on
DJ Kenny Coffin yo rock on
[Verse 1:]
In 199-sess, KRS is in
life stats made Jordan's six rings seem common
Ya'll hate I retalliate just by being great
Big Will the enemy of your mental state.
With the same rhyme I
Never ever ever will smoke that rock
Beyotch, I don't quit
I'm too short baby, got the shit
To rap on the mike, turn you out
Too short baby without
in every color I think in
To paint a picture with every rhyme that I speak in
Yeah, the gallery is the beat then I... I... I... I...
[Mike Shinoda]
a briefcase
Rhythm with real rough rhyme
Beats with deep bass
Girls with tight pants
Maybe they might dance
Tonight if the Rs on the mike
There's a slight
a briefcase
Rhythm with real rough rhyme
Beats with deep bass
Girls with tight pants
Maybe they might dance
Tonight if the Rs on the mike
There's a slight
.JPG/236px-Out4Fame-Festival_2015_-_Busta_Rhymes_-_2_(cropped).JPG "Busta Rhymes")
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