It's Yourz
Do that shit
Fuck them niggas...
Whats up playboy
Nigga, you doing you're thing
Nigga, go ahead
Chorus: [Raekwon]
Yeah, them fake duels
Any real niggas baby make moves
Pay dues, bitches who relate rock shoes yo
Damn, them niggas stay frontin
Try to hollywood eyes the realness
But ain't sayin nothin
[Raekwon]
Yo, bagel material, contact Merial kid
She sling cell weight, bust gun material
Fast like splash and rice, stash you're wife
Curry, chicken, and bitches crime on my right
I'm marvelous extra large
Questions
Chorus:
Question, how many MC's do you know like this?
The type who can freestyle, check it I must insist
But before I stop my mic check and cock back my fist
The LP gots to MC
[Wild Child]
Let's collaborate with the sounds of fate, gather round the plate
Ya down to wait for the background chatter when I surrond the fake
Drop a soundpiece on ya ear using my mic arithmetic
To getting up my flows while I'm using my mic equipment
LP will like uplift you with beats and lyrics that shift you
Predict you need help so may The Force be with you
Since rap is like a court dismissing you like a jury
When it comes to West Coast underground,
Lootpack's enlisted yearly
Ya best be concerned if you heard that I said I
It's confirmed Jack must return like Jedi
On the cuts is DJ Romes, rocking beats my nigga Madlib
[Madlib]
Come like this with an abstract jab
Niggas mad cuz I plan to be green forever
(Cuz whatever the cause) we'll get taken out never
You'll end up gettin' caught up in our circle
Hemmed up cuz you forgot to put your limbs up
You can catch me with my SP or my pad and my pen
Mixed with Hen, Heineken, Juice and Gin
The California weed blend to get you open like stunts
This is dedicated to them niggas that front
Chorus:
Question, how many MC's do you know like this?
The type who can freestyle, check it I must insist
But before I stop my mic check and cock back my fist
The LP gots to MC
[Madlib]
In any city, country, state, or any center
The instrumental inventor be all up in the winter
Summer, spring, fall, never hit you with no gimmicks
Original loop beat patterns back the lyrics
So when we start to invent, niggas know the flava
Hit you off with no intent, than flip ill demented
(Well how you feel about most niggas?)
Most ya niggas comin out with that same old shit
My niggas on that brain sick
When it comes to lyrical wetting, its kinda like armaggedon
Suckers be gettin beheaded, shredded so nigga forget it
Ya fake MC's make me wanna laugh
Ya niggas out for the cash but in a year y'all niggas pass
[Wild Child]
Now ease down off the treble and go threes up on the bass and
We'll drop universal for the whole Likwit organization
Y'all gonna be facing (soundpieces) forms of manifestation
We'll run up in ya station and give messages to the nation
We're gonna start to neglect wack MC's who lack respect
As the lost art resurrects, I'll make all y'all want to eject
Wackness, for the simple fact Jack is
Sending this out to all of my 805 abstract friends
Chorus: 2x
Question, how many MC's do you know like this?
The type who can freestyle, check it I must insist
But before I stop my mic check and cock back my fist
The LP gots to MC