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Diskografije + Domaci lyrics: 0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L Lj M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

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Tema: John Cena  (Pročitano 16222 puta)
03. Feb 2008, 02:06:18
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"The Time Is Now"

[Chorus: John Cena]
Your time is up, my time is now
You can't see me, my time is now
It's the franchise, boy I'm shinin' now
You can't see me, my time is now!

[John Cena]
In case you forgot or fell off I'm still hot - knock your shell off
My money stack fat plus I can't turn the swell off
The franchise, doin' big bid'ness, I live this
It's automatic I win this - oh you hear those horns, you finished
A soldier, and I stay under you fightin'
Plus I'm stormin' on you chumps like I'm thunder and lightning
Ain't no way you breakin' me kid, I'm harder than nails
Plus I keep it on lock, like I'm part of the jail
I'm slaughtering stale, competition, I got the whole block wishing
they could run with my division but they gone fishing -
- with no bait, kid your boy hold weight
I got my soul straight, I brush your mouth like Colgate
In any weather I'm never better your boy's so hot
you'll never catch me in the next man's sweater
If they hate, let 'em hate, I drop ya whole clan
Lay yo' ass down for the three second tan

[Chorus]

[Tha Trademarc]
Yeah, uh
It's gonna be what it's gonna be
Five pounds of courage buddy, bass tint pants with a gold T
Uh - it's a war dance and victory step
A raw stance is a gift, when you insist it's my rep
John Cena, Trademarc, you all are so-so
And talk about the bread you make but don't know the recipe for dough though
Aimin' guns in all your photos, that's a no-no
When this pop, you'll liplock, your big talk's a blatant no-show
See what happens when the ice age melt
You see monetary status is not what matters, but it helps
I rock a timepiece by Benny if any
The same reason y'all could love me is the same reason y'all condemn me
A man's measured by the way that he thinks
Not clothing lines, ice links, leather and minks
I spent 20 plus years seekin' knowledge of self
So for now Marc Predka's livin' life for wealth

[Chorus 2x]
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"Don't Fuck With Us"

[John Cena]
We keep it hoppin like the cars with the shocks
We spittin heat on your block
We new to the game, but runnin the spot
Numbin your knot, with basslines that'll make ya neck break
This rook'll take your queen and put ya king in checkmate
Open your mind without makin ya meditate
We real champs; y'all just featherweight
Time to get it straight, I push your wig back
Crew loaded up with extra bread like a Big Mac
Beefin with us? We're leavin you face down
Stompin bitch rappers like I'm straight outta A-Town
Runnin the playground like it was a track meet
Shoes on the whip that be bigger than Shaq's feet
We into big things, bank account's overgrown
All types of cheese - swiss, cheddar, provolone
Guaranteed to burn wax like candles
Track hittin hard to the head like shots of Jack Daniels

[Chorus 2X: John Cena]
Y'all, bitch, crews, don't wanna fuck with us
Y'all bound, to, lose, another one bites the dust

[Tha Trademarc]
It's Trademarc the truth, laid back, aloof
I'm God, as if you needed some proof
You ain't hard I can see it on you, I need a roof
Fuck a droptop, crop if I'm creepin on you
Click-clack nickelback knickknacks if you got heaters on you
Spittin back live rounders, with five pounders
If we meetin on two, I put a beatin on you
Your sound's tired buddy, that's why I'm sleepin on you
We lean back in the ride, with cream stackin the rawhide
The sound of God slide with a raw vibe
Straight military camel clothes ash brown boots
So sick, I've been handlin flows, since enamel was gold tooth
And branded by low
You cold fuck like eskimo hoes at 7 below
You slow, you be the last to think
My hands seen more fuckin dirt than bathroom sinks

[Chorus]

[John Cena]
I got punks, dumps and switches, dump chumpses bitches
We feed you to the sharks, you can sleep with the fishes
Clean you like dishes but I ain't no busboy
You ain't family, you ain't earnin my trust boy
Seen too many bitches that'll double cross ya
We bring more drama than the Laker roster
Get the click pissed, ain't nobody can save ya
Throw heat without lookin like Fernando Valenzuela

[Tha Trademarc]
Marc Predka's the name, the rest of you lame
I'm ego drivin, seen with different women, every size and frame
I refine my game by fuckin famous bitches
But it's all the same, it's just ex to the next
for sex or brain, misses or Mrs.
Married or not, my game don't stop
It's cars bars bonds and stocks you ain't see my flow
Y'all are small-time suckers like a knee-high hoe

[Chorus]

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"Flow Easy"
(feat. Bumpy Knuckles (Freddie Foxxx))

[Bumpy Knuckles a.k.a. Freddie Foxxx]
First and foremost...
Flow easy, yo easy
Yo, yo, for the hood (for the hood)
Everybody flow easy, ha ha, so easy
Yo, listen
For the corrupt mob, John Cena, Trademarc, listen

I embarrass MC's who touch the mic with me
That's why they never holla when it's showtime - get me
I spit poison like a black snake bit me
Guns up in the E-Class, D's can't get me
My foot is a 13, 12's don't fit me
My heart is cold and hard like Jack Frost bit me
So many new flows old flows start to panic
It's time they got built by the mic mechanic
Y'all heard, I stay in hood streets like curbs
And never forget, where I come from, word
I ain't going broke, fuck you, I'll cop me a brick
And take it straight to the block, forget rap quick
Don't trip, Bump got a speed zone sign
For suckers who move too fast against mine
I'm pressed, pushing it full speed ahead
You left, bullet in chest, meet the dead, so

[Chorus]
Flow easy, turn up the mic it's time
to flow easy, whenever I spit my rhyme
I flow easy, the underground pound and grime
Flow easy, but yours don't sound like mine
I flow easy, turn up the mic it's time
I flow easy, whenever I spit my rhyme
I flow easy, the underground pound and grime
Flow easy, so yours don't sound like mine I flow easy

[Tha Trademarc]
Philosopher first, rapper second
Manifest the message, lessons involved
It all but hits you, aviate your crew and lift you
So what's the issue? Trademarc has got it locked before he meet you
Greet your mind before we even greet you
Won't mislead you, I ain't trusting people, cause I defeat you
Take it down a notch, slow your roll
Cause we crush spirits, like we stole your soul
I set styles off dog, y'all are fucking mimics
Man I talk more shit than pro-lifers in abortion clinics
Run my mouth off like high school rumors
Man and grab microphones like pedophiles groping late bloomers
Flow easy like your first day with white sneakers
You just a face in the crowd like packed bleachers
Huh, you better rock a sleeveless
Freddie Foxxx, Trademarc, John Cena breeze through
Y'all are fucking divas

[Chorus]

[John Cena]
First and foremost I sure post potential like Carmelo
Turn a hard MC to jello
Make their skin yellow with fear while staying mellow and clear
Man, we in for one hell of a year, yeah
Curse a fool like the Red Sox, we tighter than headlocks
I'm flowing easy with Freddie Foxxx
Known to hang it low like dreadlocks and y'all are too slow
Like wearing a weight vest and lead socks
I'm a fat kid, you feed me? I'm still hungry
Never let a bitch take a bill from me
Like Jordan in the 4th quarter, I'm still money
Best believe the flow water, we still runny
Make your stomach feel funny, I'm so sick
With 16 bars twice the value of gold brick
Make it known quick that I'm greedy, we got the rats and the cheese B
So believe me

[Chorus]
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"Right Now"

[John Cena]
Yeah
You can't help but feel it
Can't help but feel this one
Uh-huh uh yeah

Excuse me for a minute while I lighten the mood
Just clap with me like the lightning do, yeah
A bit of soul food that you be bitin into
And if you feel me then I'm writin for you, uh-huh
Right now put another coat of wax on the ride
For a minute put the beef and the gats to the side
Cause this track's got a vibe to chill to
Enjoy life for 5 minutes, man it's not gon' kill you
It's okay to be hard and stay true man
But at the end of the day, we all hu-man
This one's for you, the ones that you close to
Show some love, it's what you supposed to
Right now, forget the ends and the Benz
Pop a cold one, man toast it wit'cha real friends
Call your folks, tell 'em you tight now
Cause everything lookin pretty good right now

[Chorus - sped up vocal sample]

[Tha Trademarc]
Right now baby, we all gon' ride
So place those things on your hips or side
The soul vibe gon' change, give way with fame
But sometimes the moral change or stay the same
Relax baby, right now you here
And sit back baby, with a round of beer
And cheer to those friends who crowded near
For those passed on in spirit they there
It's gon' be what it must, break bread wit'cha crew
If you got kids take the crust
It's all love baby, tell your girl she's strong
And whisper in her ear after dinner it's on
And take it slow baby, cause everything real
When you at family dinner y'all enjoy that meal
Thank God that you healthy and you keepin it tight
And keep your dreams lighthearted when you sleepin at night

[Chorus - sped up vocal sample]

[John Cena]
Yeah - and right now I'm showin love to my brothers and my old man
To my girl, "Let's Get it On" like the slow jam
To everybody that I'm runnin down the road with
Y'all my family, I know that you know this
Fox, Rock, B's and Chaos
Y'all growin up with me man, true to life players
Grandma or grandpa watchin up above
Trademarc you my heart cousin, nothin but love

[Tha Trademarc]
Thanks momma, for all that you was
You a strongarm lady baby crazy with love
My sister raised me, those are the facts
And taught me how to rebuild when the order collapsed
And right now I'm blessed no stress no less
And thanks hip-hop for givin me back focus, huh
Yeah John, what can I say?
It's all love from day one, you showed me the way

[Chorus - sped up vocal sample]
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"Make It Loud"

[John Cena at a live show]
It's the joint baby, GOTTA MAKE IT LOUD [crowd cheers]
SO LET ME HEAR SOME NOISE FROM THE CROWD [more cheering]

[Tazz] That's noise!

[Chorus 2X: John Cena]
It's the joint baby, gotta make it loud
Get the point yo you gotat make it loud
Everybody in the club make it loud
SO LET ME HEAR SOME NOISE FROM THE CROWD

[John Cena]
Yeah, yeah
We came to kick the door down, it's time to hit the floor now
Yo... we got some shit in store now
So; clap your hands while we let the sax blow
Not quite Krispy Kreme, but we came to stack dough
We ain't maxed yo, we just try and get this money right
Bills made of Spandex, I still keep my money tight
Never stoppin, all I see is the money like
the kid on the mic is too +Raw+ for your Monday night
If you got in free, or your fuckin cover's paid
Bounce to this motherfucker like you was some Rubbermaid
This ain't that Cristal sippin type shit
It's that bottle breakin, startin riot type shit
So jump up and down 'til ya break the floor
Yo we keep it underground like a basement tour
East coast reppin, stretchin out to L.A.
Not double oh seven but we +Die Another Day+, what

[Chorus]

[Tha Trademarc]
I tear up any track, front to back
Like Roy Jones takin on fifty year-old cats
makin comebacks, where you at, cats spit soft shit
like whispers and gloves, I'm not hearin that
It's all love maybe if you wanna rub baby
Anything but that, step back lady
Trademarc, John Cena, clubbin it up
We got Chaos on the one and two, cuttin it up
I'm all about laid back, don't jock, I hate that
I see through haters games, don't mistake that
I still got love if you buyin our shit
If you claim you hatin us, but you ridin our dicks
Everybody hear the name, Marc Predka
It's gonna ring like an echo for years, I never left ya
All y'all raise your glass to this shit
Cause Trademarc's the head of the class of misfits

[Chorus]

[John Cena]
We steal your top spot, and you not gettin your number back
Chop down competition like I was a lumberjack
Clear out the club floor, we keep 'em comin back
Tough to bring down like an overweight runningback
Yeah - and we blaze 'em baby
Trademarc, John Cena, we amazin baby
Yo we tear up any crew, leave a motherfucker worn
Y'all are just soft like some Cinemax porn

[Tha Trademarc]
I move a crowd like a bomb scare
Grab the mic when we hittin it right, if you want fear
Some say Trademarc, he ain't all there
We old school like when Sonny, was on Cher
Take it back like a Richard Pyror 8-track
And grab a chunk of your change like a state tax
Man please, we want platinum plaques
I want cream, green, cheddar cheese, to grab in stacks

[Chorus]

[scratching Trademarc to fade]
"Chaos on the one and two, cuttin it up"
"That's that shit!"

[crowd chanting] "Ce-na, Ce-na, Ce-na" [at the end]
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"Just Another Day"

[Chorus: John Cena and Trademarc]
This is just another day in the life
Seven flight connectors - past due bill collectors
This is just another day in the life
Mo' money mo' problems - and I ain't got money to solve 'em
This is just another day in the life
Gettin mobbed by fans - man nobody even knows who I am
This is just another day in the life
This is just another day... in my life

[John Cena]
Everybody askin me - what you really like?
Is this really life? Do you really fight?
Do you fear the mic, when there's millions watchin?
Are you super rich now, how much grip you coppin?
You the new kid, now you gettin some shine
When every vet sayin that it's not yo' time
My hustle is non-stop and it's not yo' grind
Plus I hear very clear, I'm not so blind
Beef I don't sweat it, sleep I don't get it
I remember your face it's just your name I forget it
These days they melt together as one
I got some plans to do shit that ain't never been done
Take this game into battles that ain't never been won
I ain't gon' walk through life, I think it's better to run
And yeah I'm eatin right if you askin
But the size of my wallet that's reflection of passion

[Chorus]

[Tha Trademarc]
Just another face in the crowd, so to speak
Huh, my electric was cut off last weak
No heat, no food, no money, no girls
And if life's my oyster then I ain't found pearls
Makin moves every day so the ends could meet
No gas money, so I use my legs and feet
Everybody I meet man, they likely saw
that I be in the same clothes from the night before
Shoes so old you can call 'em retros
Man I'm so damn broke, even my wallet echoes
I got a dollar and change; man, I'm under the gun
That buck's the only thing keepin me from bein a bum
That's why I'm writin these words man, so I can get on
So I can realize bein poor was makin me strong
And the only reason I can't rub pennies together
is cause I carry big bills, in genuine leather

[Chorus]

[Cena] Shakin hands with some fans by the thousands
[Marc] My place so poor, looks like public housin
[Cena] Gettin the Porsche when I shoulda got the CL6
[Marc] My ride broke down, I'ma kinda between whips
[Cena] Face on the X-Box, you played the game lately?
[Marc] Man I can't rent, I owe too much in late fees
[Cena] Do I, charter a jet, or fly first class?
[Marc] Do I take a cab? Bus seats hurt my ass
[Cena] Pay my jeweler in cash, he don't take a check
[Marc] The chain I rock, leaves a green mark on my neck
[Cena] Do I get the filet steak or the shrimp & crab mix?
[Marc] Do I get a number 3 or a number 6?
[Cena] Get in the club V.I.P. man they lettin me slide
[Marc] Man they bust me for dress code, I'm still outside
[Cena] Everybody wanna be down, but I ain't got no friends
[Marc] Man nobody's around, I ain't got no friends

[Chorus]
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"Summer Flings"

[John Cena]
Yeah we doin things now man
It's just another day in the life y'know
Always tryin to do some big bid'ness
Sometimes when we havin fun
Some shit goes down y'know, you ain't expectin nothin
Then, somethin come out of nothin

It was just another typical day in the summer
Me, Trademarc, Crouch and my little brother
We put the whips out, we cruise up to the strip man
Three wheel motion killin fools like a hit man
We on some chill shit, vibin out
But we still in the mix, fuck hidin out
On the corner of L Street, I locked eyes with her
I ain't steppin man this bitch had guys with her
She came through the crowd and walked over to me
Catchin P off guard, she actin like she knew me
Her name was Shannon, she was canon
She's hangin with Melissa, this big booty chick you couldn't miss her
This chick was like a fitted cap, all over my dome
Said she wanna be down, but I ain't takin her home
That's when she said she live right down the street
She love white chocolate, well I got somethin sweet

[Chorus 2X: female singer]
Saw you walkin down the street and I
heard you say you had somethin sweet for me
Lover.. (somethin sweet) lover.. somethin sweet

[Tha Trademarc]
We run game, fill the blanks in, what's your hon's name
I can take an Eva hot bitch like bum change
Playin hard to get when I step, I'm afraid
I can treat a chick like cheap gas and upgrade
Whatever you need, whatever you want
With Trademarc on your arm, girl what more could you flaunt
There's just something about us, summer fling got you wondering
where I'll be in spring, but that's another thing
I'll be out girl, quicker than tans
If you want somethin stick hurr, stick wit'cha man
I ain't lookin for a lover girl, I'm lookin for sex
I can tell you I got money or I'm pushin a Lex
Whatever gets you hot, that's what I say next
Gettin passed through the crew girl that's a safe bet
I think it's funny how it doesn't take a whole lot
Trademarc's like an open flame, getting girls hot

[Chorus]

[John Cena]
Yo... with these sweet flows, the streets knows
whether we pimped out in streets clothes, we the bomb like deep throws
My speech grows to reach hoes - all over the globe
I got class like a Ric Flair robe

[Tha Trademarc]
Man I'm in and out quick like Jordan in the zone
D takin out a bitch like a pass from Shaq to Kobe
You know me with a extra set of hands
a bitch couldn't hold me man I leave 'em lonely

[John Cena]
If I catch a glimpse of your chick when she smile and fine
I make sure she lose your number, she'd be dialin mine
I ain't about a wife even if she won this right
I'll fuck for seven days but stand for one night

[Tha Trademarc]
Man we decked out John, the strict gutter
I'll have a girl repeatin my name in sex like the bitch stutter
I got moves lookin butter with a tight fade
Forever dipped fresh man like Minot Gray

[Chorus]
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"Keep Frontin'"
(feat. Bumpy Knuckles (Freddie Foxxx))

[Intro / Chorus: Big L sample]
I shoulda been out, I'm de-de-deadly
when I pu-pu-pull the pin out, keep frontin
I'ma try-try-try ya chin out
I knocked a lot-lot-lot-lot out of men out
Keep frontin, I'ma try-try-try ya chin out
I knocked a lot-lot
I knocked a lot-lot-lot out of men out
Keep frontin, keep frontin, keep frontin, keep frontin

[Bumpy Knuckles talking over sample]
Yo
Right now
I wanna teach all you MC's out there
How to be
Effective
Let's ride

[Freddie Foxxx a.k.a. Bumpy Knuckles]
Do y'all know what time it is when everybody game
is everybody else's hustle and everybody's shame
is somebody else's blame, whatever I became
I did it with hot rhymes and a lung full of flame
I never refrain, from loadin up and takin aim
Like chicks flows are different, I never cum/come the same
My mic will be the dame, written or off the brain
I show up with my chest pumpin hard like Notre Dame
I lose then I regain, hustle is in the vein
I'm drinkin protein shakes to muscle up the brain
In the black Chevy Suburban sippin champagne
with champagne, dick out doin the damn thang
We movin in the fast lane, with them black thangs
On the way to the Bronx, to do the ski-mask thang
I don't know what's so funny cause I ain't laughing
The part is for a dead body, guess who's casting

[Chorus]

[John Cena talking over sample]
Alright bro, I'm hearin you
I'ma see what I can do
See how I can rip it
And be, effective
Follow this

[John Cena]
Cena spittin with the Bump Bump Bump for the Knux
Your whole crew gettin dumped dumped dumped with the chumps
We rollin like Donald Trump Trump Trump with the bucks
Your bitch-ass gettin jump jump jumped cause you suck
Follow me, you stick around round round when it's hot
You claimin that you down down down but you not
You try to offer me a pound pound pound you get got
I can't wait to hear the sound sound sound of you shot
You hearin me, it's time to show show show I got plans
That's all you brought you bettter go go go get your mans
A legal hustle, ain't no no fuckin with grams
Stash the heat cause I can throw throw throw with my hands
I'm tellin you, on screen screen screen with these flicks
Catch me on the scene scene scene with three chicks
I fuck like a fiend fiend fiend with three dicks
Fuck a sixteen teen teen I'm just sick

[Chorus]

[Tha Trademarc over sample]
Yeah, what's good fellas
I'm feelin y'all man
Most these cats
Can't engineer, they career
Yeah, Trademarc, bout to
Bout to show y'all
How to be, effective

[Tha Trademarc]
My camou' colors dog they be beige and brown
That shit was all love 'til you cowards came around
With the same ol' sound that's why your payroll down
That's how the game go now that's why you ain't gain ground
Cause you stuck on then dog, you ain't on now
And that's how it's been baby cause you ain't know how
You move your pen lazy maybe or your beats don't pound
I move quicker than the word on the street go 'round
I write down every lesson that my peeps hold down
You let your heat go blaow if you ain't speak profound
I write sixteens down 'til I hit green now
Makin up slang, ain't know what shit mean now
Trademarc, Marc Predka, jot the real name down
You can catch it on every marquee in town
Sayin Trademarc, ain't nobody like you now
Probably sweatin this track dog, go wipe your brow

[Chorus - 2X]

[Bumpy Knuckles]
You see, that's all it takes
Is for a man to make an effort to be, effective
And if you're not, effective... then you're defective
Hahahaha..
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"We Didn't Want You To Know"

[20 second instrumental to open]

[Chorus: John Cena]
If you don't know by now, we runnin the game
Neck froze, got a mill' on the chain
Show respect to Cen' and Trade
Cut the check, believe we're paid
Y'all waitin for the single to drop
Look down on the charts cause we sittin on top
Everybody else feelin the flow
If you don't know by now (we didn't want you to know)

[John Cena]
Get nasty, doin dirt don't put it past me
"Appetite for Destruction," +Axl+ couldn't +Slash+ me
I got hounds that found where your stash be
They play my sound in towns, rats harass me
They know I'm nice, they ain't bettin on you
That's like playin roulette and bettin on blue
Cena gon' blow - you goin no place
Snatch your dame, show her my old face
Still walk tall with a staggered stance
Plus I hold on the club like I was Bagger Vance
Make you breakdance for me, have you doin headspins
Ship you to D.C., covered in Redskins
Catch me in a classic drop low with the wine paint
Plus I'm classic on the flow, every line great
Believe me, yo the speech is tight
I lay you down like when you sleep at night, big business

[Chorus]

[Tha Trademarc]
Y'all are cowards y'all found power and cower
The gunpowder a thousand shots an hour leavin blocks devoured
Have your family prayin for your survival
Bust shots and get cops bent out control like a spiral
Man get the fuck on if you got bangers involved
Man get the fuck on and keep your chambers revolved
Man get the fuck on and get your weight up
Man get the fuck on or you get laid up
Sippin BNB out the sceptre
It's not Trademarc to you dog it's still mister
Sophisticated, and Marc's never stuck up
I know when to shoot my mouth off and when to shut the fuck up
Every rhyme I write, worth bitin
Every room I'm in, worth micin
I'm artistic, you must have missed it
When I said every rapper sucks I was bein optimistic

[Chorus]

[Tha Trademarc]
Trademarc's mind is dilated
Highly rated, madly envied, that mean we kindly hated
The nightcrawler brawl and have you missin
when we drag your body out to sea like fishermen
and takin everything that's glistenin
So run your chain or your dame, it's all the same
Just a verb exchanged - you listenin?
Man, I never leak what I think
And never sleep cause you miss the point of life when you blink

[John Cena]
Fuck with the kid I'll leave you laid up in intensive care
This monopoly, I ain't got intent to share
When it's time to do business, I got no friends
A true hustler, burn the candle at both ends
If anybody on the scene doubt
I show 'em so much green, you think I'm farmin fuckin bean sprouts
Wrist iced when I'm cracked ya mold
Cause revenge is a dish that is best served (cold)

[Chorus]
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"Bad, Bad Man"

[John Cena]
Aww, you done did it now
Chaos you shoulda put this one in the vault man!
They not ready - they don't know what's comin man!
Oh we gonna drop this on 'em right here
Y'all ain't ready for this, Y'ALL AIN'T READY FOR NONE OF THIS!

Your boy's a bad man, and we invadin the streets
Make unclever rappers scurred, they be droppin the heat
Shocked the world, now I'm standin alone
I flip fools like them clamshell cellular phones
You can't help but nod your head to the track
Fuck the watered down rap, we be takin it back
Give it to me straight - ain't no chasin it
Check yourself in the mirror - ain't no facin it
Cause you, playin the role and you plannin to fold
This the masterplan, we got the planet on hold
We all over the streets like your favorite sneaker
Breakin up your sound like a drive-through speaker
Everything that I be spittin is strong
After I rock, fast forward through the rest of the song
We the monkeywrench, that's gonna ruin your plan
And don't fuck with John Cena - I'm a BAD, BAD MAN

[Chorus 2X: Bumpy Knuckles]
With the mic in my hands I'm a bad man
Even in a fight with the hands I'm a bad man
Livin in the streets all my life I'm a bad man
I'm a bad man, I'm a bad man

[Tha Trademarc]
We devils - rockin ambient levels
We set loose among hot tunes to instrumentals
And cats got one-liners, I drop several
And I think it's funny you choose, losin progress
or runnin in place; we makin moves, and y'all settle
I rip rappers and take responsibility
for makin future hall-of-famers look third rate
Y'all are lost for words like conversation on your worst first date
and ride beats, creep through side streets
Looseleaf notepads that's where rhymes leak
Punchlines - man, don't even beg
I got knee-slappin tracks, y'all brusin your leg
You a rhyme writer - funny man, that's a joke
You ain't worthy of bein my secretary man that's a quote
I flood tracks like cracks in boats
And pussy rappers choked up with they own lines in they throat

[Chorus]

[Bumpy Knuckles a.k.a. Freddie Foxxx]
TURN UP THE MICROPHONE and feed me I'm a beast
MC's and they beats is what I eat, 16 I'll leave you in the street
My rhymes are sicker than gangrene in both feet
It's spreadin up the leg, and headed for the head
Your rhymes are whack your style is proof that the brain corrosion
is fuckin with your chosen flows, I'm nice with mics
My hands'll break your nose like Mikey Tyson
Fightin in his prime, one rhyme
And I shake up the room one time, BOOM! To the jaw
Your face is a coat type raw
And the blood and snot they mix, jelly on the floor
My love is cop them bricks, belly on the floor
I rob you, you soft and you really ain't a problem
I solve you, 357 long nose revolve you
Acid in your face, bad look, dissolve you
I'm a bad, bad man

Yeah, check it out
It's Bumpy Knuckles baby
And I want you to say hello to the BAD, BAD, MAN - C'MON!

[Chorus]
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