Song | We & You |
Artist | Dan-E-O |
Album | Underground Hip-Hop Volume 1 |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
Dan-e-o, the bull fighter, rhyme writer, el matador | |
Lyrical mastermind, flow viciously, this MC be raw | |
Mono marksmen be sharpenin' they skills | |
You couldn't screw with the crew, Monolith | |
Cus disrespect is not allowed when the Lith rolls through | |
This rap addict's back at it to have you fags frantic | |
Cats who have static, your caskets need plannin' | |
Though Dan is asthmatic, I lyrically blast cannons | |
I seriously can't stand what this industry has patented | |
A style of rap that's laced with phrases that's basically lazy | |
Wasting our babies' minds through songs that's crazily shady | |
Amazing me maybe the most is how we disgrace the ladies | |
On screens, got 'em dribbling more balls than Tracy McGrady | |
What company hired you to give the rep that you holdin'? | |
Sometimes I see your V.I.P. pass and bet that it's stolen | |
You never wrote a rhyme so why your head is so swollen? | |
Couldn't make a crowd get up even if the credits was rollin' | |
It's a shame you an A&R, you won't get your label far | |
Would rock groups get signed if its members couldn't play guitar? | |
(No) then why do wack rappers make mad grands? | |
Meanwhile, without a badge, I'm still known as The Man, yeah! | |
[CHORUS x2] | |
WE come to rock, YOU come to jock! | |
WE nice the vibe and y'all niggaz dick ride! | |
YOU come to hate, WE snatch your plate! | |
And YOU get your food eaten every time! | |
I crush clowns, make they're blabberin' a hushed sound | |
Gwannin' with too much mouth like if they scored a touchdown | |
Now they just cuss, frown and cry cuz they just found | |
I must pound punks into the ground 'till they dust bound | |
Cuz all you've done is rockin' in your click's sessions | |
Assumin' that each verse makes a popular impression | |
Stop any bredren from walkin' up into my section | |
Cuz from one mention, I pop niggaz like big questions | |
Still my records don't make enough funds for me | |
And you complainin' how commercial hip-hop's come to be? | |
You internet nerds are all punks to D | |
How will underground survive when you get stuff for free? | |
See this menace is a murderer with sentences | |
Greater than percentages of pregnant kids on T.V. talk show segments is | |
But you a faker, step to me and I'll make ya | |
Later than periods and the times most niggaz wake up! | |
[CHORUS] | |
[BRIDGE] | |
WE be the niggaz who can rock the house | |
And YOU be the niggaz who just run your mouth | |
See, WE be the niggaz who can make 'em dance | |
And YOU be the niggaz you ain't got a chance | |
See, WE be the niggaz who are bound to blow | |
And YOU be the niggaz who ain't learned to flow | |
So just chill and check how it's supposed to go | |
Yo peep it, yo peep it, peep it, peep it | |
Man, what you lookin' at? Who you tryin' to scare with your crooked raps? | |
Cookin' facts up so all that's in your lyric book is crap | |
Claimin' you jookin' chaps, to me you the shookest cats | |
How you sell your soul, you might as well work where them hookers at | |
Battle your click and start with the largest member | |
Spirits I break with more malice than all of law's offenders | |
Hotter than West Indian food made with the harshest pepper | |
Serve you niggaz with verses badder than my father's temper | |
Remember "Dear Hip Hop"?, you one of his abusers | |
Especially you hatin' types, fake gangstas and you nerds | |
Callin' my pager anonymously dissin' me through words | |
No metaphors needed here: you're straight up friggin losers! | |
Yo, you're soon to hurt, here's what happens when this tune'll burst | |
It'll puncture the universe like dolls for a voodoo curse | |
Do you see the moon and earth? Yo, they'll be the first to go | |
I don't know what's worse you know, a flood or when I burst a flow! | |
[CHORUS] |
Daneo, the bull fighter, rhyme writer, el matador | |
Lyrical mastermind, flow viciously, this MC be raw | |
Mono marksmen be sharpenin' they skills | |
You couldn' t screw with the crew, Monolith | |
Cus disrespect is not allowed when the Lith rolls through | |
This rap addict' s back at it to have you fags frantic | |
Cats who have static, your caskets need plannin' | |
Though Dan is asthmatic, I lyrically blast cannons | |
I seriously can' t stand what this industry has patented | |
A style of rap that' s laced with phrases that' s basically lazy | |
Wasting our babies' minds through songs that' s crazily shady | |
Amazing me maybe the most is how we disgrace the ladies | |
On screens, got ' em dribbling more balls than Tracy McGrady | |
What company hired you to give the rep that you holdin'? | |
Sometimes I see your V. I. P. pass and bet that it' s stolen | |
You never wrote a rhyme so why your head is so swollen? | |
Couldn' t make a crowd get up even if the credits was rollin' | |
It' s a shame you an A R, you won' t get your label far | |
Would rock groups get signed if its members couldn' t play guitar? | |
No then why do wack rappers make mad grands? | |
Meanwhile, without a badge, I' m still known as The Man, yeah! | |
CHORUS x2 | |
WE come to rock, YOU come to jock! | |
WE nice the vibe and y' all niggaz dick ride! | |
YOU come to hate, WE snatch your plate! | |
And YOU get your food eaten every time! | |
I crush clowns, make they' re blabberin' a hushed sound | |
Gwannin' with too much mouth like if they scored a touchdown | |
Now they just cuss, frown and cry cuz they just found | |
I must pound punks into the ground ' till they dust bound | |
Cuz all you' ve done is rockin' in your click' s sessions | |
Assumin' that each verse makes a popular impression | |
Stop any bredren from walkin' up into my section | |
Cuz from one mention, I pop niggaz like big questions | |
Still my records don' t make enough funds for me | |
And you complainin' how commercial hiphop' s come to be? | |
You internet nerds are all punks to D | |
How will underground survive when you get stuff for free? | |
See this menace is a murderer with sentences | |
Greater than percentages of pregnant kids on T. V. talk show segments is | |
But you a faker, step to me and I' ll make ya | |
Later than periods and the times most niggaz wake up! | |
CHORUS | |
BRIDGE | |
WE be the niggaz who can rock the house | |
And YOU be the niggaz who just run your mouth | |
See, WE be the niggaz who can make ' em dance | |
And YOU be the niggaz you ain' t got a chance | |
See, WE be the niggaz who are bound to blow | |
And YOU be the niggaz who ain' t learned to flow | |
So just chill and check how it' s supposed to go | |
Yo peep it, yo peep it, peep it, peep it | |
Man, what you lookin' at? Who you tryin' to scare with your crooked raps? | |
Cookin' facts up so all that' s in your lyric book is crap | |
Claimin' you jookin' chaps, to me you the shookest cats | |
How you sell your soul, you might as well work where them hookers at | |
Battle your click and start with the largest member | |
Spirits I break with more malice than all of law' s offenders | |
Hotter than West Indian food made with the harshest pepper | |
Serve you niggaz with verses badder than my father' s temper | |
Remember " Dear Hip Hop"?, you one of his abusers | |
Especially you hatin' types, fake gangstas and you nerds | |
Callin' my pager anonymously dissin' me through words | |
No metaphors needed here: you' re straight up friggin losers! | |
Yo, you' re soon to hurt, here' s what happens when this tune' ll burst | |
It' ll puncture the universe like dolls for a voodoo curse | |
Do you see the moon and earth? Yo, they' ll be the first to go | |
I don' t know what' s worse you know, a flood or when I burst a flow! | |
CHORUS |
Daneo, the bull fighter, rhyme writer, el matador | |
Lyrical mastermind, flow viciously, this MC be raw | |
Mono marksmen be sharpenin' they skills | |
You couldn' t screw with the crew, Monolith | |
Cus disrespect is not allowed when the Lith rolls through | |
This rap addict' s back at it to have you fags frantic | |
Cats who have static, your caskets need plannin' | |
Though Dan is asthmatic, I lyrically blast cannons | |
I seriously can' t stand what this industry has patented | |
A style of rap that' s laced with phrases that' s basically lazy | |
Wasting our babies' minds through songs that' s crazily shady | |
Amazing me maybe the most is how we disgrace the ladies | |
On screens, got ' em dribbling more balls than Tracy McGrady | |
What company hired you to give the rep that you holdin'? | |
Sometimes I see your V. I. P. pass and bet that it' s stolen | |
You never wrote a rhyme so why your head is so swollen? | |
Couldn' t make a crowd get up even if the credits was rollin' | |
It' s a shame you an A R, you won' t get your label far | |
Would rock groups get signed if its members couldn' t play guitar? | |
No then why do wack rappers make mad grands? | |
Meanwhile, without a badge, I' m still known as The Man, yeah! | |
CHORUS x2 | |
WE come to rock, YOU come to jock! | |
WE nice the vibe and y' all niggaz dick ride! | |
YOU come to hate, WE snatch your plate! | |
And YOU get your food eaten every time! | |
I crush clowns, make they' re blabberin' a hushed sound | |
Gwannin' with too much mouth like if they scored a touchdown | |
Now they just cuss, frown and cry cuz they just found | |
I must pound punks into the ground ' till they dust bound | |
Cuz all you' ve done is rockin' in your click' s sessions | |
Assumin' that each verse makes a popular impression | |
Stop any bredren from walkin' up into my section | |
Cuz from one mention, I pop niggaz like big questions | |
Still my records don' t make enough funds for me | |
And you complainin' how commercial hiphop' s come to be? | |
You internet nerds are all punks to D | |
How will underground survive when you get stuff for free? | |
See this menace is a murderer with sentences | |
Greater than percentages of pregnant kids on T. V. talk show segments is | |
But you a faker, step to me and I' ll make ya | |
Later than periods and the times most niggaz wake up! | |
CHORUS | |
BRIDGE | |
WE be the niggaz who can rock the house | |
And YOU be the niggaz who just run your mouth | |
See, WE be the niggaz who can make ' em dance | |
And YOU be the niggaz you ain' t got a chance | |
See, WE be the niggaz who are bound to blow | |
And YOU be the niggaz who ain' t learned to flow | |
So just chill and check how it' s supposed to go | |
Yo peep it, yo peep it, peep it, peep it | |
Man, what you lookin' at? Who you tryin' to scare with your crooked raps? | |
Cookin' facts up so all that' s in your lyric book is crap | |
Claimin' you jookin' chaps, to me you the shookest cats | |
How you sell your soul, you might as well work where them hookers at | |
Battle your click and start with the largest member | |
Spirits I break with more malice than all of law' s offenders | |
Hotter than West Indian food made with the harshest pepper | |
Serve you niggaz with verses badder than my father' s temper | |
Remember " Dear Hip Hop"?, you one of his abusers | |
Especially you hatin' types, fake gangstas and you nerds | |
Callin' my pager anonymously dissin' me through words | |
No metaphors needed here: you' re straight up friggin losers! | |
Yo, you' re soon to hurt, here' s what happens when this tune' ll burst | |
It' ll puncture the universe like dolls for a voodoo curse | |
Do you see the moon and earth? Yo, they' ll be the first to go | |
I don' t know what' s worse you know, a flood or when I burst a flow! | |
CHORUS |