[B-Real]
|
Call me the serial rhyme killer
|
Mic-cord strangling, mangling, tangling, you in the web nigga
|
Your head is dangling off of your shoulders
|
Cause my mic told me to do it cause you wasn't a true soldier
|
Fake bustas get hit with the clusterbomb
|
You're a hotdog with no mustard, you're flusterd, I'm calm
|
Spit heat like a fucking dragon, bagging you up
|
Tagging you toe, zipping you up
|
Clipping you up, mic-cord tripping you up
|
You're in the dark with no light
|
and wishing a nigga had lit you up
|
So much for wishful thinking, you're body's stinking
|
You're sinking into the hole and I'm at the top winking at ya
|
|
[Sen-Dog]
|
Don't play me too close I'm a certified bomb
|
Designed to designate all over the tape
|
Got my Cuban Puertoricans all up in the place
|
Gonna smash you in the face with tapes check it out
|
|
[B-Real]
|
Call me imperial beatslayer
|
All prayers try to be advisory to rivalry in the battle player
|
Bitches who lie to me and cry to me use bribery
|
I'm taking the torch and burn Puffy-music for canivalry
|
That'll teach you I beat you on every plain
|
Ain't no other way to reach you, I reach you with pain
|
Shred you into pieces using the tigerclaw
|
I'm a cold nigga you need more than a lighter to thaw
|
Me and my lyrical Iceberg suckers are panic
|
Fuck what you head I brought down the Titanic
|
So can it and shut it, I wrote it and bust it
|
because it never gonna be safe for wack niggas I don't trust 'em
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[Sen-Dog]
|
Call me superior showstopper, your hiphop legacy
|
Claim us to remember we break you off proper
|
Oh you got a short memory? You wanna render me?
|
Harmless and surrender me for the fucking enemy?
|
I won't let ya I bet ya I reign supreme
|
Make your fans forget ya search ya in front of your team
|
Make a nigga smoke a ounce and bounce over the rhythem
|
And hit em and get another suck and hit em with venom
|
Nigga my name is Sen and I'm real while you're pretending
|
Suckers with no style I hope you get offended
|
So I can lock your ass up with my jawclutches
|
Then my rhymes will catch you cause they're sharp like Tony Touch's
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[Sen-Dog]
|
Yeah, that's right y'all
|
Gonna smash you in the face
|
Who be comming on touching me, getting around me
|
I'm a bomb you know what I'm saying
|
I'm ready to go off you know what I'm saying
|
So many motherfuckers out there talking shit, doing their little thing
|
It's cool you know what I'm saying, go ahead make you money
|
But don't you be comming around me perplexing playing like a bitch
|
You know what I'm saying
|
Cause I can see your ass right through you know what I'm saying
|
You're glass homeyboy, you're glass you know what I'm saying
|
Don't play me too close y'all
|
I don't think I like you too much you know what I'm saying
|
Always kicking it, doing what we do
|
Trying to act like us, trying to sound like us
|
You're playing me too close motherfucker
|
You need too step the fuck on back
|
Take your ass on back to wherever the fuck you come from
|
You're playing me way way too close you know what I'm saying
|
|
-----------------
|
Certified Bomb
|
Cypress Hill |