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Yo, I bought that album man, it's wack man
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I'm tellin you, I don't like it
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I'ma be honest man
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Honest?
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I'm dead up, I'm serious
|
Serious?
|
I don't feel it man, the drums are too weak
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I don't feel the snares
|
Coulda used a different type of sample
|
You're wack man, yeah..
|
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Yo, that kid is wack, his father's wack
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His group is wack, that's word word black
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I'm detrimental, I hop up on this instrumental
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Smack your face with mitts, a pile of grease filled with grits
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Burn you like Teddy Pendergrass, tap you on that ass
|
I'm Big Jim, shut your mouth, call me Jimmy Steel
|
Don't freestyle, Chemical Bank, y'all keep it real
|
On Lollapalooza, their butts packed with German Lugers
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On tour dates, stashin mad work in milk crates
|
Rock groups get smacked, speakers dropped, on they back
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Some damage I'm raw, kid the blood is on your kneecaps
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Let's get scuffed up, your castle more than roughed up
|
Pockets with royalties, you gets, no loyalties
|
That's word bill, sell your house's mortgage off the hill
|
I'm for real necks, payin crackers for my Ampex
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Yeah!
|
|
It's the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)
|
It's the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)
|
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You got commercial records, no monies in your wack pockets
|
You get jerked, my Master-charge-Card's doin work
|
Eight thousand grills, all these Franklin heads, big head bills
|
You go 'head wrap balogna sandwich in yo' backpack
|
School kids up no joke on record labels, y'all still broke
|
Don't flex at me, who's this kid, standin next to me
|
I got versatile sawed-off shotgun WIC checks with me
|
Suckers I'm android, no time to feel paranoid
|
Blow out your face, pull your skull back, now give me space
|
My wig is ready, disguised, ridin on the subway
|
Baldhead on 42nd Street, down on Broadway
|
With Tony Lou, out of prison, my crew from Rahway
|
That's word Lou, I'm in New York, I'm here to see you
|
Cut back your weak tracks, and vomit on your vinyl wax
|
I'm here, like gladiator, air-conditioned central
|
You smokin embalmin fluid, elephants are mental
|
I got dreams to wear your parts off your cash machine
|
That's in the window me with bags, in the Wells Fargo
|
Changin your incite, I'm high class, with appetite
|
You no comp, for roast pigs, I delete
|
Your style is neckbone, my cab rides by your street
|
Yeah!
|
|
It's the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)
|
It's the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)
|
|
I twist the bums out the project, elevator lights is out
|
Y'all wanna step to Phi B, big like the ? family
|
Holdin your ear, like you handicapped, you can't hear
|
Touch up your young style delivery, don't appeal
|
Follow through, instructions easy for your rap crew
|
That's word, that kid you rapped, sound like BooBoo
|
Stinky feet, with razor bumps, tryin to rap on beat
|
I cut your fog lamp down like meat, cut, by the pound
|
Heather B, step to me, with your thin sound
|
Twist your knobs, your engineer, mixed like Baskin-Rob's
|
You on the charts, with just enough to Pop Tarts
|
Publishin checks you signed off, you gets no respect
|
You gets to lease the Benz, cryin loud with your WIC check
|
No sale retail, deposit all direct sales
|
Yeah! Check it
|
|
It's the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)
|
It's the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)
|
It's the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)
|
It's the brother feelin fly (brothers feelin fly)
|
|
Yeah!
|
Yeah.. styles.. retarded..
|
Brothers feelin fly..
|
|
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-----------------
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Brothers Feel Fly
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| Dr. Dooom |
