Once upon a Time

I'm on a mission I hold the pen and stay twisted The competition my street cats will stay listening (word up) Detroit to New York I still walk the walk Control dancehall, chillin in my b-boy stance y'all Never was known to be an emcee I still rip and flip crowds into a frenzy Reciting facts shit, and it's like herbs to bite Bum rushing mic tec playing slowly at night Coincide with the mic take flight above shores (word of mouth) I separate mines from yours I look ya up and as I stare in your face Your big mind's on a hum hum The one you got your idea from Yeah I'm right here son, straight out the slum Makin tracks for dough, gettin paid to do shows So when I blow (what) the niggas respect my flow Ay yo I'm nice with the pill and I rock with Slum Vill Ay yo, you want flows? We got tons of them Pete, Slum and Tim trying to bank shit like the Huntington Get that money and dip Flash the cash in front of them Niggas gruntin' and shit Sayin' nothin I'm done with them Oh yo! Peeps ain't got a hold they gun on them Cause if one of them cats jump, we all jumpin' in Believe that! We got somethin' for the some dumb Bubble yum chewin that don't know what they doin' with this rap shit Rap tactics automatic and the fact is y'all know you bored with the wack shit We got that phat shit that auto and Track shit and when you hear it man I don't know how to act, shit It's like the first related verse and now we rock with the beat Just another causality for S and the V It's like action is what we give and receive Best do believe we got some shit up our sleeves Shit to dance to, some shit to the trees Some shit if you dyin' and they help you breathe Make a handicap nigga exceed with speed It's like totally with Toronto to V Doin this for DET in the place to be Can't forget the rest R,O,I, and T Mac Nicholas baby, what else could it be? Please, lace me with a scratch for the beat In the beginning, it was the S, never no name shit Motherfuckers traveled for miles to Mac Nick We kick rhymes we know they never sound like yours To the mic lookin' like cheap thoughts Fuck this rap shit, I'm too smart for that I do this shit for kicks with my crew, believe that The S is on the way to makin' emcees quick I shoot the kinda rhymes to make the emcees duck On the mic I never fight I call an angel of war Slice an emcee with my palm, a lyrical sword You really want a bottle? You must be ill Well it's the S, numero uno, I'm in your favorite The negroes make the music that you run out to get Now this is love at the less, new bomb shit Mac Nicholas is earnin' money on some burner shit What, Slum Vill and we out No doubt for 98 Settin ya straight Getcha self laced Peace