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Correct Saturday Nite Live Lyrics
Lyrics
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Artists: M
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Masta Ace Incorporated
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Correct Saturday Nite Live
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Song:
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Lyrics:
"live from new york it's saturday nite!" (scratched 4x) [uneek] Ayo kid for years I've been into rap Writing funky rhymes to get my name on the map And by now I know I'm hitting Cause I say a rhyme and girls be like, "uh no he didn't" I'm so nonchalont, word to my uncle and my aunt I serve mc's like a restaurant It ain't where you're from it's where you're at So in that case your butt better step like a frat Cause juice I got a lot of vaoprs While you gotta quit, I'm always rolling with umdada, shit When I deliver I make you shiver If a guy try to front, I have to show him I'm the problem giver Girlfriend you're gonna be in bad shape If you expect uneek to take you shopping like a demo tape I'll tell your brother jack to be nimble Cause if you want beef we can clash like a cymbal You need to stop all the yelling and the cursing I know it foul, he couldn't house a homeless person We don't cuddle in the eyceurokk huddle While verse is subtle, and then we wet you like a puddle One lyric from the gut, so what? You want to strut like you're bad and then you might get had Yeah it's cool, it's gonna be all right Cause live from new york it's saturday nite "live from new york it's saturday nite!" (scratched 4x) [masta ace] It's the offbeat, on beat, man with the mostest Like hostess, I bake mc's and oh and you knows this So 1 2 3 4, for whom the bell is tolling I'm rolling with umdada and I'm um holding my swollen And doing the project dance from back in the days It's the master, the ace and yo, I'm black and it pays So bust the move on the mad offbeat tip and It's the dopest, but can you cope this, by far the hippest Hat on sideways or backward, I knew a funky track would Open up the ears of the black hood I'm not rough mouth, richie, or the fonz I'm no joke, I school that ass like st. John's Some come get a little bit, hit hard like a rock and Open up the door cause I'm knocking Ready or not, here I come in a hurry and It's masta ace, steady pace, paula perry and Eyceurokk with the 4 building storm and Welcome to the bates motel, my name is norman I got the mad knife, I'm mad mean I killed mad crews, I read mad magazine So break it down for the heads with the dreads For the baldies and the fades, for the blues and the reds Here comes the crazy drunken style, take a swigga As I take my finger of the trigga for the lord digga [lord digga] Lord digga, the microphone mutilator With the hardcore data to mash motherfuckers like potatoes I get a load of a punk who tried to diss me You wanna know why? Cause I spit on spectators My style is rough, ruck, and rugged on the I'll tip Blowing the fuck up, sending pussies looking for microchips Mad mad styles get flipped when the chordless gets gripped Not a gang member but I got tales from the crip I'm mad mad funky like silk Take a sniff of my ass crack, motherfuckers stay wack As my pockets get fat like and elephant I'm far from benevolent, I'm up your ass for the hell of it I'm catching wreck on your record or cassette tape Now I can't wait to catch motherfuckers that slept late I flip the hardcore shit so little punks you know That's how it goes on saturday nite "live from new york it's saturday nite!" (scratched 4x) [eyce] Eyceurokk consists of three: First is rokk deisel, my brother uneek, and then there's me, nigga I wear the orange and the black cap, black and orange jersey on my back Baddest nigga in the pack And I work to get my loot, shoot Huh, I'm turning heads like a handicapped prostitute Son you gotta belive me That I'm a be "rockin you, rockin you" but I'm not davert leavy I'm hitting rappers til they stagger And if he's a bragger, I'm gonna watch him fall like niagra Ooops, oh, time for him to go Take him to the morgue, put a tag on his toe Not the type you can play a game with Fuck around, look at all the niggas that I came with Stop dissing, there will be no tomorrow You'll feel sorrow, I'm knocking niggas down like mark bavarro Cause rap is not a toy, if you're in it for the bones You'll be home alone just like that little white boy Master eyce is on the way And live from new york I'm catching wreck on a saturday "live from new york it's saturday nite!" (scratched 4x)
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