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Guru: |
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Yo Duke, you're dead wrong |
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You'll never have the skills like mine |
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I write the ill type rhymes |
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Now I'm reaching my prime |
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360 dunk in your face |
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You can't compete, you're just a basketcase |
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Let's separate the men from the boys |
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And put your money where your mouth is |
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No time for toys |
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Your game is weak, get it, so don't sleep |
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Cuz I'll be checking and wrecking ya |
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When I start to creep |
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Through the backdoor |
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I know I caught you out there |
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You got no clout here |
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And I doubt there |
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Is anyway that you can stop the beatdown |
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You better play the background |
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And sit back down |
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Chumps like you, I gotta keep'em in line |
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So prepare to suffer boy, cuz now you're mine |
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(DJ Premier scratching) |
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I'll fake you left and go right |
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Straight down the lane |
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Here's one in your eye |
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You feel pain, you strain |
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To put together some strategy |
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But you're raggedy, and i'll be glad to see |
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The frown on your grill when i drill and thrill |
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Set out my offense, commence to kill |
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I'll be leading from beginning to end |
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And after I guard ya |
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You're gonna wanna make friends |
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And make amends for the silly trash you were talking |
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Take a walk and your shots I'm swatting |
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With ease, and the ladies are swooning |
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Clocking my swiftness, why you drooling? |
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You oughtta practice up and get your game with mine |
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I been waiting to guard you, and now you're mine |
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(DJ Premier scratching) |
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Hurry up, sucker |
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Go ahead and pick your squad |
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Try to play hard, but I'ma rob |
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You of your crazy notions to defeat me |
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Your weak see |
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I rock all courts |
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And even get down to give you a rematch |
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After I wax and tax that butt |
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When I slam the alley-oop |
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You can rally troops |
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But I play the awesome defense |
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I'll pick your pocket |
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And send you to the bench |
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With tears in your eyes as you realize |
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The prize is for me |
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Yes all the money |
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Son, my flow is too nice |
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My handle's precise |
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I'll fake you right and go left |
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Because my game's so def, and now you're mine |
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(DJ Premier scratching) |
