|
|
[Featuring Threat]
|
Intro:
|
I am Captain of Egor
|
Hahahaha, this nigga is doin impressions!
|
He's doin impressions!
|
Hi Tremaine...
|
Yo Threat, you ready? (yeah)
|
Sup?
|
Verse One: Threat
|
Who is you nigga who is you?
|
I know you from somewhere (where you from) The Zoo
|
Why you got beef with my click, fuck you punk bitch
|
And fuck you too, this is L.A. Zoo
|
And we don't give a mad fuck about you sorry ass suckers
|
Tick tock chrome off that fake gold watch
|
Faster bastard don't make me have to plaster
|
Players, get smoked with my bare hands
|
Got the shit that sway in a wicked way
|
Like Tash and J, motherfuckin Ro hoe
|
Down with E-Swift and the Alkaholik crew
|
And to my homies this Bud's for you
|
Who is dem niggas
|
Verse Two: E-Swift
|
Guess who nigga been down evrysince
|
With the L.A. Zoo, my nigga Threat, Sway, and Tense
|
E motherfuckin Swift ohh I, thought you knew
|
Looted me some glocks in April, Ninety-Two
|
But it's a new day, so make way shortie
|
For the nigge with the brown bag wrapped around the forty
|
Hold up, yo, I said hold up, here he come
|
J motherfuckin Ro and he's buzzin off the rum
|
Verse Three: J-Ro
|
Yo it's the J-Ro fever, catch it
|
I'm prone to grab the microphone and get evil and wreck shit
|
If I hear, one more, nigga kickin up
|
Das EFX shit, I'm bombin, my style is uncommon
|
Peep it, keep it in your brain until the next one
|
My rhyme will lift you up like a muscle when I flex
|
one, two, three, J-Ro is who I be
|
I got more bone than a cemetary
|
Ninety-Three mandingo, I got my own lingo
|
My Mexican homey, told me never trust a gringo
|
But I trust no man, I'm chillin like a snowman
|
I makin lots of dough, and the Liks can rip a show and
|
Freak it, yo E-Swift freak it
|
Won't ya give em up peak after funk when they seek it
|
I used to walk the block with my pops playin poo-tat
|
Now they be like who that, and shit how he do that
|
Chorus: repeat 4X
|
[Oh my gosh, oh my gosh!] -- Busta Rhymes, Scenario
|
Who dem niggas, who dem niggas
|
Verse Four: Tash
|
Tash on the mic makes niggas play the cheap seats
|
I rip shit from Cali to the Valley of the Jeep Beats
|
They call me Uncle Sam cause my skills'll tax all y'all
|
Call y'all [suckas] cause them niggas need to ball y'all
|
Rhyme phat pages up and light em wit ya lighter
|
MC's keep the gifts that's like flies from a spider
|
From the pimp slap, light skin, kid that turns the mics out
|
Diss y'all, crew then turn around and punch your lights out
|
I take to the funk sound man since my pager
|
I kick the kind of shit that make you want to beat your bitch up
|
The nigga, knocker, tipsy off the vodka
|
Tash on the mic floats like a helicopter
|
Stop the, presses, the Liks rock the freshest
|
I'm lookin for the bitches in the tight tight dresses
|
So who them niggas with beats for your ass
|
The Alkaholik crew, peace out, my name is Tash
|
Chorus
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Who Dem Niggas
|
| Tha Alkaholiks |
