Steppin' up out the shadows I comes equipped to wreck Hold up just a sec Coolio I'm on deck (Malika) Yep the diction is on point 'Causin' friction when I flex up the jaw to hit the joint
That can actually give a blood mob like Gotti Like the body cool keep the strap up by the naughties Niggie trippin' why you beam us I don't step up with no bullshit See that there it's clip for this stickup on the hip
Peep the correct way to get your pimp on Let me hit the bong oh and my mind's quite strong Wreck it nice and proper if it's on I'm finsta to stop her If I'm swingin' for the knockout, best believe I'm fits to drop her
Ninety-five's on poppin', representin' I keep stompin' Throw up my fists just like this when I'm mobbin'
I killed the last, killed the ass, with my ninety-five drive I'm deep like Denzel with my Crimson Tide, nigga Like Chaka Khan, I tell you something good I'm Hi-see like Spike Lee within Tales From the Hood
You need it, I'll feed it, baby check the size Have you Goin' Down like Mary J. Blige When it's poppin' like this, you can't be a coward Shorty freaks fuckin' beats like Adina Howard
My squad is hard, with players, and hustlers No toleration, for fakers and busters Fuckin' with me with all honesty You get bombed rap songs comin constantly
Bumpin G-15's, Westside scene Killin the competition, while making a fuckin' green So ring, around the rosie, and mosey to the Rosie And I want you to know G
[Chorus] We bust and cuss and kick up dust Don't none of y'all niggaz want to fuck with us So what's the time? It's time to get real Why you bust your rhyme? Cause I got skills We bust and cuss and kick up dust Don't none of y'all niggaz want to fuck with us So what's the time? It's time to get real Why you bust your rhyme? Cause that's how I bail
Watch me, swallow this nickel and shit five pennies I'm the loc'est of them all though the rat is kinda skinny How many linny and squidgy think they can see me? I'm from Compton where even in the summer niggaz wear beanies
Bustin' lyrics sharper than razor blades catch it from head to toe if you're shocked, then amazed, when you see me at my stage show For my stage show beat em up 40 Thevz gettin' busy rockin' coast to coast
Dogs the most rap the hoes then rocks em up Givin' it up for hip-hop vicitims how should I drop em and then pop em for poppin' like to get what I got, and I ain't got a whole lot of Nothin'
'Cause I been ruffin' and scuffin' so give it up when I'm bustin' or get to duckin' 'Cause I ain't given em nothin' Fools can't get none, so fuck em!
Let me rock the motherfuckin mic Smoke a whole stick of dynamite, then fight all night I got jabs like a welterweight champion The pocket-pincher purse-snatcher pistol-packin
quick to get it crackin' Went from jackin' to rappin' to runnin' with a pack of mad men Pull a trick out my sleeve like Aladdin Some fool tried to play me for a punk I had to have him like
Lunch or dinner, he's just a beginner Fuckin' with a winner, number one contender top dog Head nigga in charge runnin' with a group of hogs 40 Thevz, MAAD Circle, Cat, and Crowbar
Best to put your daughter Wack ass rappers get tossed up Trying to come in here with that garbage My crew see the dopest and the hardest
So clear the path or get your punk ass Bogart-ed
We bust and cuss and kick up dust Don't none of y'all niggaz want to fuck with us So what's the time? It's time to get real Why you bust your rhyme? Cause that's how I bail
I peep game and get recognized, buyin all the hard liquor toothpick and beedy-dyin Bitch you got dealt, peeled your cap the other way like a reversible Louis-Vitton Gucci belt
And ain't nothin' crackin' For them niggaz steppin' up with the funk I'm packin' Tinactin' 'Cause I be earnin' stripes in tight bunches All the homies carry nines I carry rhymes in sucker punches
What? Tootsie, my knees don't bend Just like that actor Hoffman I be Dustin off men often Jaywalkin over your coffin with an eleven shot loss and John wrecked that Austin won't soften you're lost and
see arson, to exterminate the flyest nigga like Orkin Stalkin lofts men to New York and in between so take caution, leave the flossin for dental hygiene Mental plus my gene equals nasty young bastard
The raps be lung mastered takin' vinyl's virginity Coincidentally I run shit like Walter Payton Niggaz player hatin' cause I spoke like a Dayton I kick the bass like Ron Carter at the Carter when
C and B came strollin' Blowin' niggaz up like when Mookie's stupid ass got caught smokin' Figure, your stigma is lack of enigma So bitch-ass niggaz better step, like the Delta Sigma Thetas
We don't give a fuck, fools better duck 39 deep in the back of Wino's truck Like robbin' in the paint, fool think I ain't? Your crew is on stank, that's why I'm pullin' rank
I rev like a motor float ON like a boat to kick a style like Tical from here to North Dakota The ambassador of funk with amps in the trunk And when it's time to rock a mic I won't be no punk
I bring death to the evil and power to the people My name ain't Steve Miller but I Fly Like an Eagle Don't play me for a chump, I get around like Gump And I, got more con in my verse than Chuck
And you don't want no motherfuckin' problems here 'Cause I can round up a posse like Paul Revere Your whole crew'll get took out, turned out, shook out Burned up like a cookout, so fools better look out
Fresh out the penalty box Sportin' a stockin' cap, cut off dickies, and some high-top striped socks The freestyle finatic pyschosomatic back at it causin' static With lyrics still as tight as a straight jacket
The last in line but one of the first to get wit cha Bringin' more terror to MC's than a Michigan militia Click click boom, nigga fuck your crew It's the chanky hip-hopper, takin' over pissin' in your stage monitor
socket you think that you can fuck with mine in your wildest dreams You best to wake up and apologize Niggaz penitentiary yearn me 'cause I, burn like Parker but anyway, half of y'all couldn't see me with a pair of Blu Blockers
The lyrical night stalker stalkin' at night in a pair of creased Khakis Chuck Taylors, my pistol grip tight Dub-see, that nigga from Westside MAAD Circle Ay man! Ay ay.
What's up Wino? Uh like loc, it's like late, let's get the fuck up out of here Are we out? Yeah yeah fuck it Fuck it, MAAD Circle bitch!
Songwriters: IVEY, ARTIS L JR / CALHOUN, WILLIAM / HANCOCK, HERBIE / MAUPIN, BENNIE / MASON, HARVEY JR. / JACKSON, PAUL / DOBBS, BRIAN / BRADFORD, MALIKA / PETTY, LETICE / STRAUGHTER, MALIEEK / STRAUGHTER, HENRY / AUSTIN, JOHN