Def Squad, J. Bleezy
|
Ha, com-bust-ya-ble, huh
|
|
It's Erick, I'm back again, full fledged
|
American flag in here so y'all pledge
|
A few of y'all sold some albums, yeah congrats
|
The game in trouble, I must rescue rap
|
Yo, I'm a hero!
|
Sometimes I feel the same way
|
Like the folks involved with Ground Zero
|
And somebody owe me boy, I'm dead serious
|
This year my Squad better blow to oblivious
|
|
Yo, did you lose weight? Yeah, I got stamina
|
Profile me like this and hold the camera
|
I'm alone, so what y'all wanna do?
|
Take over your faciliy like I'm John Q
|
I rock mics, I Chris Rock, I Kid Rock
|
I rock the house like I'm Run
|
Rap conniseur, I rock Sean John velour
|
B-boy stance and that's hardcore
|
E-Dub, real name, no gimmicks
|
Your style is over, finito, finished
|
You a parasite, type lyrical germ
|
You a sucker MC in layman terms, and
|
|
We don't care nuttin 'bout you
|
Yeah, we don't care, we come up in the spot sayin', oh yeah
|
Oh yeah, throw your hands in the air
|
Oh yeah, 'cause
|
|
We don't care nuttin 'bout you
|
Yeah, we don't care, we come up in the spot sayin', oh yeah
|
Oh yeah, throw your hands in the air
|
Oh yeah, 'cause
|
|
Yeah, I got a track record, I spit fouls
|
E don't stop, keep it grinding, puts it down fo' sho'
|
(Grinding)
|
My figgedy flow is sick siggedy, yo
|
Watch me biggedy blow, and y'all niggedy know
|
It's Def Squeezy, thirteen years in rap
|
And now it's easy, I do things to please me
|
Yo, I come through so crazy
|
I'm a, "Stun'na" like M. Fresh and Baby
|
Got more toys than Kay Bee, me and my yung'uns
|
|
Slow down before you receive a summons
|
And get hit for speeding, I break a switch off a tree
|
You catch a beating for y'all misleading
|
(Yeah!)
|
Shame on you, when you step to, huh
|
The Green Eyed Bandit, smile you on candid
|
Rob J. Timberlake, I got Janet
|
I'm in control now, ohh wow
|
Yeah, 'cause that's how it is, and that's how I'm livin'
|
I bring turmoil like Mike and Robin Givens
|
And watch me go off a-go off
|
A yes, yes, y'all, and show off and show off, and yes
|
|
We don't care nuttin 'bout you
|
Yeah, we don't care, we come up in the spot sayin', oh yeah
|
Oh yeah, throw your hands in the air
|
Oh yeah, 'cause
|
|
Sermon, the word I preach to ya
|
Control the airwaves so it can reach to ya
|
The underground of rap ring, I'm David Tua
|
The one round knockout, your eyeballs pop out
|
High school dropout, I'm not gon' cop out
|
I did the rhymin' thing and now a truck I hop out
|
"Fiesta" I'm down with R. Kelly shit
|
|
I'm, "Supa Dupa Fly" Missy Elliott
|
I stay focused, keep the same cycle
|
Do me, proceed to rock the world like Michael
|
Without Chris Tucker, with no Marlon Brando
|
Just give enough for J-Lo to handle
|
So scream at me, holla, smoke signals
|
Morse code, try a 2-way, or telephone
|
And I give it to ya, all day in street
|
Two turntables a mic and breakbeat, 'cause
|
|
We don't care nuttin 'bout you
|
Yeah, we don't care, we come up in the spot sayin', oh yeah
|
Oh yeah, throw your hands in the air
|
Oh yeah, 'cause
|
|
You got about five seconds to get to the dance floor
|
You got about two more seconds to get to the dance floor
|
|
-----------------
|
We Don't Care
|
| Erick Sermon |
