Oh screw it, hear my song!


"Funk my hood up, sup, Funk my hood up, every body bounce right now, come on, come on!
Tear the roof off, Tear the roof off, so hit it strong POW, POW, POW!

Yo, I’m an Instigator, Republican Hater,
Evil Dictator, bad as Darth Vader,
A government slayer, no need for prayer,
I’m not a taxpayer; I act now not later,
South central were I be, for LA to YNC,
Cypher’s who I be, living in a fucked county,
Clearing up debrie, of so-called government superiority,
They listen to minority, control a screwed up authority,
But more about me, I’m a pro MC; No one can touch me,
I don’t give in easy, I’m rhymes ain’t sleazy,
I’ll fight to the end, never to go down the U bend,
I hold strong with my friends, a strong message I’ll send.
Don’t pray on the week, their hearts will never mend.
Whiz there evil in your head do you want everybody dead
, You here what I said, your fucked in the head.
But don’t worry, were here to have fun,
You want a Wako word master, then I’m the one!
Just hit the bass some more, we got rhymes galore,
Keep it cutter, keep it going and every thing remains raw,
Cos. my source is the force, I spit till I’m hoarse,
Don’t mess with the best, mess with the rest,
We put ya up to the test, right down to the funk fest.
It on your armrest hears the funk fest.

Yo west Thames, (Jump Down) hot Brixton, (Around)
East Coast (the sound) Dirty South (underground!)

Funk it up, hot Dam, I think I’m in a wake jam,
Funk it up, hot dam, you need to hit it with your ram,
They’re a party in house that’s under stood,
And I ain’t leaving till we funk the hood.

Yo, pause…stops and let me analyze the situation,
Yep this party’s ruff, this calls for celebration,
This here beat brings suck a rock elevation,
So hot, so good, it must be a revaluation,
I need to be so high, like levitation,
Teaching men to freestyle for a generation,
Radio station, idiot nation, killin’s not a feelin
So I’m procreation.
Repeat this beat till world donation
I have an itch with stitch witch brings irritation,
As the house starts to shake, it’s make or brake, a rhyme that cannot be fake, this is my to take and to make, I make no mistake,
Knock, knock cypher’s at the door, I couldn’t leave you with this joint, I had to give more, Cold feat when I’m out my seat, I kick ass, if these a rival to defeat, I’ll move fast,
Left hand souplex, enter the vortex, slow down the rhythm, it’s getting too complex. Let me knock your head to test your reflex.
Smack you in the back sit back in jumbo jets.

Yo west Themes, (wha up) hot Brixton, (what’s up)
East Coast (shut up) Dirty South (head up)

Funk it up, hot Dam, I think I’m in a whack jam,
Funk it up, hot dam, you need to hit it with your ram,
They’re a party in house that’s under stood,
And I ain’t leaving till we funk the hood.

This game is like a start of something that never,
Finishes or ends like ya souls locked forever,
I never under stood this since we all die young,
When you’re out for the count there’s no victory to be won,
Ya may think I’m crazy but I think that’s worth risking,
I’ll try and try, maybe die, until I’m king,
To see the heart the power the soul with in,
A rap super star life to begin,
I refuse to be send the rest of my life as a dogs body,
Even if it mean’s speaking complete rody dody,
Like pro’s of chromosomes to word cyclones,
Loud speakers and headphones making a deff tone,
Like a giga slappy, trappy, trigger happy,
Let’s all blame it on carnal Cedafie,
Hit him with bang bip chappy,
I hate kid rock, Ja rule, fat Joe and Nelly,
I’m Slick cool fly fast cutting edge like Arthur fonsarelly,
I’m quit a bit like golem, I like to stroke my precious,
Every word Mr. bush said is so completely specious,
See the fake junky townie rapper, I would like to see him fight a ill-tempered voloser raptor, I’d like to him bring him down, he would like to set me on fire,
But I can take the heat cos I’m the other white meat also know as hybrid cypher, it’s just another case of everyday human evens, just the small print don’t seem to make any sense, what would be strange is if I woke up died tomorrow would people rejoice, would they hang there heads in sorrow, if go to hell, I hope I burn well, I’ll hang with biggie, jam master j, 2pac Sakur and Easy E, and Alalia, Sammy Davis junior, bob marley and Bruce lee, but for me rhymes always original, beats are lethal, hip hop is king, and boy bands are evil, so lets says respect to mardy child, keep in check Cos his rhymes be wild, better stay sharp kids cos we keep your rhymes filed, we smack don’t hold back cyphers how its styled,
Sucker!

Ha kids… this is your history lesson, turn your text books to page 203,
Can you see me, their I am, look me up,
This is what we call history in the making!"

out