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Come on |
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[Verse 1:] |
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Who talkin' smack bitch |
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You wanna get at this, think you need more practice |
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You weigh out your bracket, I rock the home of fuckin' atlas |
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Save that racket for the tennis court inner |
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Bought your mission |
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Resort to kissin' these gluts, or you played like flutes |
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Cause the acne that I inflict, causes tragedy when I spit |
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And if you ain't the shit, you better dip, you better split |
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You better take off, before I before break off |
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Make off |
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Munch through cupcakes, that's soft |
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That's why I serve you like a bake off |
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I'll rip your Face Off like I'm |
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Nicholas Cage |
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You wanna face off? |
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That's ridiculous, I'm Rage |
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The mic brawler |
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The night crawler |
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I smoke 'em like I'm off that water |
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Clever Adlas great grand daughter |
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Would injure ya, your girl from Virginia (Uh, uh) |
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Make no bones about it |
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When it's all about it |
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I got a knights that remains raw, a ice's never thaws |
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Priceless, baby, hah |
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Rage, that's all |
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[Chorus: DJ Premier] |
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[scratching] |
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[Da Brat:] "Check the flow" |
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"Rage in effect" |
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[scratching] |
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"So now you know" |
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"Kick up" |
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"Dust" |
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"As I begin to bust" |
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[scratching] |
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[Lady Of Rage:] "Back on up" |
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[Chorus] |
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[Verse 2:] |
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I'm foldin' |
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Emcees like Times with dirty consonants and vowels |
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When I creepin' on the prowl and stay wild out like an owl |
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Now who (Who) |
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Flows better than this rhyme writer |
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You in a click full of dicks and you still couldn't come tighter than |
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Live in red dress |
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With the afro puff hairdress |
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Young and restless, naw, you nah wanna test this, ha |
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I break it down baby, and best pray to the Lord |
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Cause |
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Fuckin' 'round with Rage is a |
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Wish you can't afford |
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I leave 'em standin' on they tippy toes, dealin' with a drippy nose |
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Bombardin' with my fifty flows, I ain't fuckin' with these silly hoes |
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Now |
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Shit's about to get so retarded |
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I just got dumped and I got left broken hearted |
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I ain't got shit to lose, the first bitch that move |
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They gon' |
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Catch it in the worst way |
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Rage blood thristy |
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Attacks ready to throw down, that's how it goes down |
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I can't slow down |
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Judge Joe Brown convicted me a rhyme |
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Slaughter |
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Cause I spit killable syllables |
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Leave 'em pitiful, the cynical Rage, unfuckwitable |
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[Chorus x2] |
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[Verse 3:] |
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Now with my Timbos |
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I could leave a bimbo in limbo |
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Make 'em tremble when I spit through the dental of these instrumentals |
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When I'm chewin' on a mental, [? ] from the intro |
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I told y'all from the get-go, I rock harder than credentials |
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Say that |
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Shit for your colon |
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I strike 'em like I'm bowlin' |
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You sweet cheeks can't compete with the heat that I'm holdin', ha |
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Dingbats, better take their wings back and cash in |
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Lyrical murderer back up in this bitch to bashin' |
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So, ante up and pull your panties up |
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And call your granny up |
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Tell her you got your fanny bust |
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Weak shit banged off the backboard |
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How about some hardcore? |
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How about some rough, rugged and raw |
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With all sincereness |
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I spit lyrics with raw severeness |
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Gladiator fearless, Tyson style, leave 'em Earless |
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So |
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Which of you, want me to snatch you by your brithces, boo |
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I, hit you with my witches' stew, turn 'em into bitches' brew |
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Terror, when you up against Rage Hitchcock |
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From H block |
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With a flow that make 'em scream, "Rage, stop! " |
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Now that's crazy |
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Naw, that's the Lady Of Rage (Rage...) |
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[Chorus x2] |
