|
The rhyme I pick up trick up and like hiccup
|
(Hiccup!) This is a good place for a stickup
|
So throw your hands in the air and say hell yeah
|
I Can Beat Mike Tyson plus I'm Fresh er than the Prince of Bel Air
|
And I Blossom In Colour is how I'm Living see
|
some pretend to be afraid of me but they're my Public Ene ma
|
Picture this like a cinema; I'm winnin a contest
|
I knew you was a loser when you bought your girl's prom dress
|
I'm just, another one of the nigs, take a swig
|
I can sing, brothers'll work it out without a gig
|
The gold mud in my blood, I'm a stud smokin blunts
|
Not a fuddy dud if rhymes were pecks, I'd be Woody Wood
|
They're after pestly hoes and that's the hoes I sex and don't collects
|
Rockin a Rolex, prefer Wrist Ex instead of Solar Flex
|
but I pump skill, to build what I can build and still feel good
|
The baddest hoes be sayin, "Oooh you're real good"
|
Fella a city dweller, it's poison salmonella
|
Auntie's name is Stella, style as def/deaf as Helen Keller
|
Nail a flammer with the Hammer for comin incorrect
|
not with his grammar or bad mamma jama similar, to Bruce Banner
|
So don't get me angry, or maybe you won't like me
|
Kid just in the nick I kick more ass than Bruce Lee's Nike's did
|
Just in the nick I kick on the geek stick, flick a Bic
|
Dick a chick, Slick-er than Rick around the clock I tock to the
|
tic tac toe, rip up my rhyme my mic's my lasso
|
Shit, I got rhymes comin out my asshole
|
I'm in a pole position sole position you're in no position
|
to be dissin it's a, Rainbow Coalition
|
I'm kissin ass, goodbye, rockaby, here's your lullaby
|
like Georgie Puddin Pie but baby baby don't, cry
|
Feed em I heat em and eat em if I don't need em then I leave em
|
as leftovers, packin the weak MC's into ?septober?
|
Til I was older, I couldn't hold a rhyme folder
|
Now I dare ya to try and knock this mic off my shoulder
|
If I'm sober I won't hold a skunk, but when I'm drunk
|
I might let her bunk in my bed, heads be sayin I'm a hunk
|
Like a duck I'm slammin ham MC's MC's I'm servin
|
Makin the people jump like my man... Julius Erving!!!
|
Those deserving props are gonna get theirs
|
Grip, there's something on your lip, oh that's my dick hairs
|
I'm the biggedy biggedy Bear ya scrub Cub with a demo tape
|
Tryin to catch me catch your breath before you hyperventilate
|
for air you gots it, your best bet is to take an aspirin
|
I bash it, crash it now you know so stop askin
|
Cause when you ash I'll make an ass of you and only you see
|
Just in the nick I kick the funky shit
|
that's why they call me Bootsy
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Just In The Nick Of Rhyme
|
| Common Sense |
