|
Chorus: Kool Keith
|
|
I see maxi curls (Yeah! ...)
|
Players, activator
|
I see maxi curls (Yeah! ...)
|
Remote control alligators
|
|
[Kool Keith]
|
I got skill, you're on my tip, now back off
|
Slack off, let me do this, and y'all turn the wack off
|
The radio stereo here we go, flow and blow
|
Puerto Rico, Southside, Latin, you're feed pattern
|
Black people mingle, white people, buy my single
|
Bingo bangle, let go my steel Eggo
|
Throwin rhymes in spirals like Joe Klecko
|
Miami Dolphin, now shut up, close your mouth and
|
you be hatin debatin, regurgitatin
|
Ratin latent, and perpetratin
|
My album's love mics, tough like dirt bikes
|
You get frantic, New York City, run and panic
|
California, I switch up, boogie on ya
|
Like Don Cornelius, on SOULLLLLLLLLLL TRAIN!
|
And heads I clip off, in rap leave a bloodstain
|
A bigger pain, you would need novacaine
|
Bite off Rakim, you copy Big Daddy Kane
|
You know my steelo, I rhyme against a million people
|
who think they equal, disguisin as Jamaican people
|
Fakin, funkin, you're pedigree, your beat is sunk in
|
Tonka toy of little boy, steppin down to Roy
|
I'm no joke, I rap for cash and you're buyin a coat
|
Bronx bomber, superb on the freak momma
|
Stinkin movin, my whole crew is comin through
|
Yeah..
|
|
Chorus
|
|
[Kool Keith]
|
Bout it bout it, like Master P, makin money G
|
No time for promos, get paid when I MC
|
You know my feeling, I'm dealing, with tracks so real and
|
radio blackout, your format, is not appealin
|
R&B can step up, but can't compare to me
|
You oughta know -- how, I, feel
|
That's wack, with bookbags, packed on your back
|
Video bop, my skin is black BET
|
Program your channels, your grandkids wanna see me
|
Freakin status, freakin styles, freakin flows
|
Freakin foes, freakin lyrics, freakin spirits
|
I make a def person hear it
|
Duplicate you demonstrate, what I used to make
|
Remakes I watch, your crew'll imitate
|
Motivate still skills to pay bills
|
Creative sauce, watch out, I'm your boss
|
On Panasonic like Steve, style bionic
|
You get to workin, your head bop, you not jerkin
|
You be out lurkin for danger, in my Ranger
|
You think I'm bugged man? With Catwoman, like a stranger
|
Packed with speed, supersonic level Reed
|
Steelo jets and Bill Blass like rockets
|
In your pockets, damagin your brain sockets
|
Yeahhhhh?
|
|
Chorus
|
|
[Kool Keith]
|
Like Mobile, settin up shop in Alabama
|
For proper grammar, my style Arm & Hammer
|
Strong computer, underground like Roto Rooter
|
Fools critics they mimic, copy, sloppy
|
MC's get hurt, you blockhead, try to stop me
|
Digital thinkin, you're blinkin, career sinkin
|
Old like Mod Squad, you rap like Lincoln
|
Sideburns turned, you catchin ringworm
|
A heavy virus, worser than, hepatitis
|
Schizophrenic like ten people out the clinic
|
Yankee Stadium uptown, you can't win the pennant
|
I do construction, you pack up your whole production
|
Your lips are ready, your girl has a nice suction
|
Pack her bags pack her bags pack her bags right
|
Pack her bags pack her bags pack her bags left
|
Your style is A, B, C-D
|
E-F, G-H, I-J-K, L-M-N-O-P, Q-R-S
|
Don't test, I taught you how to get your deals
|
You put my style on your reels
|
You went uptown, claimin my sound
|
Get back, stay down
|
|
Chorus 2X
|
|
[Kool Keith]
|
Maxi curl, activator
|
Brought to you by, Kool Keith
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Maxi Curls
|
| Kool Keith |
