It’s Yours
Verse one, verse two
I practice tae kwon do, nut-fu, and voodoo
See me, you ain't got to feel me
Just believe me
Riff raffs, I give you the heebie-jeebies
You be a memory just like The Bee Gees
Snap that neck blues
Just like you're Stevie
Wonder man, you been wonderin'
How I can whirlwind around the earth
And bring the thunder in
Rain, hail, sleet, and snow
Yo, I catch fire like phosphorus
While I stomp these streets
I'm a hip hop colossus
I'll need no brass knuckles for niggas
I've got this
Won't you pass me a mic so I can rock this
Now just listen to the rhyme and jot this
I came in the game wipin' up the corner
Everybody don't step up, they be a goner
Smoke emcees like Dutch Masters
Hit it faster, give me the mic
I bless you like a pastor
I'm on top of my game, I drive you insane
Take the wildest beat and make
The shit seem tame
Nowadays, you either hot or you lame
I be the type of cat
That straight hit's your brain
The mathematical, El Lyrical
I be the type of emcee to
Burn you up with syllables
Like that, you know it's like that
When I attack there ain't an
Army that can strike back it's yours!
Would you want it? Would you want it?
If I had it would you
Want it? Well it's yours
I'm the illest spitter ever to get it
Ever to fit in i grabbin' a mic or I can
Hit you with a smidgen
What? Who I am? Check it out, who I be
I bow to the crowd who fiend for my energy
Rhymes so accurate, raps I smack you with
I drop down to the earth so I can practice
Wordplay, spit it for flying guillotines
Multiple blows, multiple foes
Poisonous backflips
Go ahead and catch a bloody nose
No one knows I strike when the wind blows
Spit venom, drink gas, breathe fire
No one's higher
Go ahead and burn in the fire
Emcees trying to step up and be the sire
I had to let you know I got a son named Zia
Stick your neck out
Your head done roll like a tire
Afu-Ra take it higher and higher
I'm the type of cat that
Someday you gonna read about
Spit that ill shit over the track
'til I bleed from my mouth
Dissecting your rap connection afu-Ra, yo
It's motherfucking chin checkin'
So if you want to test your god
Satan hit's you with a style
That'll make you retarded
Like that, you know it's like that
When I attack there ain't an
Army that can strike back it's yours!
Would you want it? Would you want it?
If I had it would you
Want it? Well it's yours