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STOP! Man whatchu gonna do now? |
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Now I'ma break it down just to tell a little story |
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Straight off the top, with no specific category |
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Welcome to another rendition of what we call freefall |
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About time, we decide to ball |
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With the mind of a junkyard hog ready to brawl |
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Witcha hype man, retrievin the mysterious mic stand |
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Yo, murderin the first 12 Monkeys in a face-off the top |
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Flip my claws out, fangs for bloody thirst |
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The curse of a person conversin in tongues for funds |
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Punchlines like loaded nines won't survive in my dimension |
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Divide the sector seven into pie graph |
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Twenty-five percent passed, ten percent dissed, the other half |
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Talk fast and don't say shit like deaf mutes |
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My def boots, trample on troops, samples applied, wire detonate |
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Mic fires in Beirut, cards of the same suit |
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A half deck, catchin half wreck, that was your last bet |
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[Chorus] |
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Now, whether you like it or not, we still arrive |
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Bright and early up in yo' face with somethin live |
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The crew that makes you wake up, stop and peep notice.. |
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Notice.. "Open your eyes and try to focus" |
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I think it's time to wake up (for what) to hear the dope stuff |
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You know the stuff that Ryu and Tak' drop on the hush |
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The sound that people wanna pound but don't touch |
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We slow the platoons like water balloons in a bunch |
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We oughta resume to crunch your half rhyme pasttime |
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Call out fakes, see me at the bank in the cash line |
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Not a greedy pig, but indeed he did do (what was that?) |
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Tried to get cold, when I'm an igloo |
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Don't you know what you got into, into got you what? |
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No you don't, attack this with bass-ackwards tactics |
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will get you on my blacklist, quick-er |
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Than you can pass or flip the flea flicker |
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Run the hundred yard dash, pass Flash Gordon |
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Flippin the bird, trippin over tongue tied words |
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Yeah these unsigned nerds, stuck with a memo on the back |
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Floodin the underground with weak demos on wax |
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(Like that?) Like that, and that's the way it'll be |
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Cause when my empire strikes back vigorously |
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Here comes the crew that makes you wake up, stop and peep notice.. |
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Endangered x4 |
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Aiyyo, is that your bag, I'll help you pack it |
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Cause that's the, last time you steppin to Cali kickin some wack shit |
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Feel the wrath of Iron Patrick, rippin apart |
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your poetry thoughts, w-dots, ? bought boxes |
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of cheap art and stolen parts from the chop shop |
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Used to be hip-hop, converted to a drop top |
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Hah, no longer legit for hopscotch, the oil gauge |
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key to ignite drips the plot |
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Stuck in the service shop, we heard a lot of same stuff played |
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Quick to identify like a friendly game of charades |
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So whatcha whatcha want? |
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Endangered x5 |
