| Song | Jockin' My Style |
| Artist | Craig Mack |
| Album | Operation: Get Down |
| 作词 : Fyffe, Mack | |
| Here comes a rhyme in your ear Craig Mack is here so have no fear | |
| My rhymes push the hack to the rear | |
| I'm severe rap pioneer with funk I steer now it's clear | |
| Rhymes flow to the break of dawn | |
| Exploring MC's I get silly on, like Ponce De Leon | |
| Yet don't foget my style is a banger | |
| MC's I deposit in the closet on a hanger | |
| Mack chop your rhymes like I chop shop chop a Acc | |
| Startin with the bones in your back | |
| Whenever I attack it's like a blow from a axe | |
| Sweet like sugar that be on Sugar Smacks | |
| Facts is Mr. or Mrs. | |
| Can't another rapper see me when it's time for gettin biz | |
| And the moral of the story as you will see | |
| Is that from now on the greatest rapper is me | |
| [Chorus:] | |
| MC's you're jockin my style, you're jockin my style boy | |
| You're jocking my style, MC's stop jockin my style | |
| You know you can't touch the flav | |
| MC's you're jockin my style, you're jockin my style boy | |
| You're jocking my style, MC's stop jockin my style | |
| Craig Mack has the phat funk flav | |
| Now I'm sayin, rock funk to the Himalayan | |
| No more delaying, MC's you decaying, I'm staying | |
| Cause now I'm out my cage | |
| And what I do for rap is gonna make front page | |
| Remember back in the days I was just a tyke | |
| I do a rhyme while I do a wheelie riding bike | |
| But now I'm the man with the mic in my hand | |
| Starving MC's like them kids from Siam | |
| Breaker breaker, it's the funk rhyme shaker | |
| Super duper superb slamming like a Laker | |
| Swimmin on MC's like moray eels with mass appeal | |
| Your rhymes are jokes like Dangerfield's | |
| Boy, I'll tell ya, ain't no liver on this continent | |
| I'm dope and you the opposite, the man when I be dropping shit | |
| Raw, I give MC's a headache | |
| Hit your ass so hard and kill your man by mistake | |
| Youse a fake ladies and real niggaz know | |
| Non-stop rockin til it's time to go so bust the flow | |
| I'm a be a round for a while | |
| MC's stop jockin my style | |
| [Chorus] | |
| Now everybody put your hands in the air | |
| Wave them shits like you just don't care, aiyyo | |
| You could have a dollar or be a millonaire | |
| Sometimes I think that Mack should be mayor | |
| Now me, myself and I, we three bad motherfuckers | |
| Here to eliminate suckers | |
| I came to rock a party are you ready | |
| Get your Aunt Millie's out I eat MC's like spaghetti | |
| Rap machete, I'll cut your ass like a sword | |
| Into buying rhymes these rhymes you can't afford | |
| I shine like jewelry, ain't nobody schoolin me | |
| I battle anybody just point to who the fool be | |
| Cause you and me, we ain't the same type of breed | |
| I grab the mic and give the crowd what they need, and proceed | |
| To rock the mic since a child | |
| Get off my tip and stop jocking my style | |
| [Chorus] |
| zuò cí : Fyffe, Mack | |
| Here comes a rhyme in your ear Craig Mack is here so have no fear | |
| My rhymes push the hack to the rear | |
| I' m severe rap pioneer with funk I steer now it' s clear | |
| Rhymes flow to the break of dawn | |
| Exploring MC' s I get silly on, like Ponce De Leon | |
| Yet don' t foget my style is a banger | |
| MC' s I deposit in the closet on a hanger | |
| Mack chop your rhymes like I chop shop chop a Acc | |
| Startin with the bones in your back | |
| Whenever I attack it' s like a blow from a axe | |
| Sweet like sugar that be on Sugar Smacks | |
| Facts is Mr. or Mrs. | |
| Can' t another rapper see me when it' s time for gettin biz | |
| And the moral of the story as you will see | |
| Is that from now on the greatest rapper is me | |
| Chorus: | |
| MC' s you' re jockin my style, you' re jockin my style boy | |
| You' re jocking my style, MC' s stop jockin my style | |
| You know you can' t touch the flav | |
| MC' s you' re jockin my style, you' re jockin my style boy | |
| You' re jocking my style, MC' s stop jockin my style | |
| Craig Mack has the phat funk flav | |
| Now I' m sayin, rock funk to the Himalayan | |
| No more delaying, MC' s you decaying, I' m staying | |
| Cause now I' m out my cage | |
| And what I do for rap is gonna make front page | |
| Remember back in the days I was just a tyke | |
| I do a rhyme while I do a wheelie riding bike | |
| But now I' m the man with the mic in my hand | |
| Starving MC' s like them kids from Siam | |
| Breaker breaker, it' s the funk rhyme shaker | |
| Super duper superb slamming like a Laker | |
| Swimmin on MC' s like moray eels with mass appeal | |
| Your rhymes are jokes like Dangerfield' s | |
| Boy, I' ll tell ya, ain' t no liver on this continent | |
| I' m dope and you the opposite, the man when I be dropping shit | |
| Raw, I give MC' s a headache | |
| Hit your ass so hard and kill your man by mistake | |
| Youse a fake ladies and real niggaz know | |
| Nonstop rockin til it' s time to go so bust the flow | |
| I' m a be a round for a while | |
| MC' s stop jockin my style | |
| Chorus | |
| Now everybody put your hands in the air | |
| Wave them shits like you just don' t care, aiyyo | |
| You could have a dollar or be a millonaire | |
| Sometimes I think that Mack should be mayor | |
| Now me, myself and I, we three bad motherfuckers | |
| Here to eliminate suckers | |
| I came to rock a party are you ready | |
| Get your Aunt Millie' s out I eat MC' s like spaghetti | |
| Rap machete, I' ll cut your ass like a sword | |
| Into buying rhymes these rhymes you can' t afford | |
| I shine like jewelry, ain' t nobody schoolin me | |
| I battle anybody just point to who the fool be | |
| Cause you and me, we ain' t the same type of breed | |
| I grab the mic and give the crowd what they need, and proceed | |
| To rock the mic since a child | |
| Get off my tip and stop jocking my style | |
| Chorus |