[Dj klc] Yo Mia. I got the firest beat and I want you and Mac to bust off it. So who goin first? [Mia X] It don't matter to me, Boo. [Dj klc] Well, we gone flip for it. Call it in the air. [Mia X] Heads. [Mac] Tails [Mia X] Mac, you up first. [Mac] Say, kl. Since I gotta go first and s**t I'ma kick this s**t one more time For the old fake a** n****s who thought I lost it. Ya heard me? Check it
Verse One: Mac
Street camo Cover my flesh I'm one of the best in the contests They steppin to Mac without a vest on they chest If all you wanted was rest Then I'm your Nyquil guy Your night time sniffin and stuffiness I kill with one shot The murder murder verses Quench lunatic's thirsts I get p***y from nurses Comin from churches The camouflage A-S-S A-S-S I-N I'm deadlier with my pen Then n****s with the mac 10 But that was back then In 98 I'm strapped Cuz I'm on the map Ain't afraid to bust a cap And I get paid for bustin raps I like them ghetto girls Y'all can have them super models Cuz gangsta b*****s got bodies like Coke bottles I get the game from my n***a V9 I get the beats off the 3-9 Them n****s can't see mine I'm lyrically a therapist A fuckin terrorist Boom Boom! I never miss I'm on the next level
Chorus: repeat 2X [Mia X and Mac]
Well I'ma flip it like this And I'ma rip it like that And I'ma rip it like that And I'ma flip it like this
Verse Two: Mia X
When the smoke clears I'ma still be here n***a Mic in my hand Rowdy doin the rip the rapper dance I set the lines behind the fallen emcees that challenge me You cross my path You gets flipped in my wrath The aftermath left b*****s quiet as f**k Like when the neighbors saw the crim and the cops came up I rips it up from the gut Like Jack the Shanka Man Chasin hoes down with the knife in his hand The better man's gone be Mama And you know this n***a On the top or the bottom I'ma show this n***a He's goin to sleep I'm too deep The lady alligator Stick your seven inches in the swamp And I'ma fade ya I made you motherfuckers recognize the south For the gumbo flava comin out my mouth About drama Bout paper Bout settin it off F**k the verbal fantasies My s**t is real y'all.
Verse Three: Mac and Mia X
[Mac] Pass me the mic And let me dig into they chests Like ak bullets through they proof vests In a shootin fest I murder emcees like media Mac the street encyclopedia Who wanna test me? Bless me with somethin knottin B*****s who start p***y poppin Rhyme I quote em Nines I told em Like wallets I'm rock solid And I like it when they suck and swallow it I'm hardcore F**k that slangin and s**t Cuz when I'm on the mic N****s be bangin and s**t
[Mia] I love them buck wild crowds Mama be center stage Throwin lyrics at them n****s Like hand grenades You can' take the projects out of a b***h like me Six figures make me throw bigger block parties Still warm my bed with a thug n***a of course (for sho) Still in the mix with all them messy a** hoes Still bust a freestyle with my camouflage son Off top, then leave the studio with my gun cocked What?!