The oral combat will romp that, you're one of my seeds
Set the thermostat at sub-zero, they're frozen
Gang Starr motherfucker, what, blowin' up the spot
Boo-ya-ka, to your face as I ruin ya
No escapin' the explosion, those who are dozin', I close in
I'll stick an MC for his spot and sign in blood on his wack record
You betta repent, come correct, represent
Unable to conquer the gang, I ain't mad at cha
And if the hooker runs her mouth she gets cut off
I'm a smooth nigga and my groove's bigga, move nigga
I made the rules so go to school and get played
To let you slide through, rhymes will scar you
When I first busted on the scene
But then you'll sweat her, 'cause like my leather you're butter soft
I go from one format then switch to the next
I'm 'bout to blow the fuck up
And we don't care who's wit cha, got the picture?
Your style stinks, kid, ya garbage
I'm 'bout to blow the fuck up
Crazy shouts are heard all around
I'm not the tallest, but that ass I'll polish
I'll break you up into particles, to small pieces
I heard your chick wants to bone me
And you don't wanna hear the burners go pop
Throw the cash in the pot
You betta dash nigga, 'cause I'm blowin' up the spot
Just when you're thinkin' that your jam is hot
Born to succeed, foes bleed, true indeed
Or get stomped, smacked and slapped, cap peeled back
'Cause the G to the U to the R-U, came too far
Nigga, you knew I had more than a gangsta lean
Clown ya, dumbfound ya, while I'm screwin'
The fuck out cha girl as she steps into my world
You want some props, yo dog, here's a biscuit
Because your brain is minuscule
I get, wild like rugby, respected like Bugsy
Keepin' it real, no playin' niggaz or chrome
And who the fuck are you anyway?
Extreme temperatures from my mic, stuns amateurs
I got some brand new Timbs, so emcees sing new hymns
I got you open and now you cling to my sac
I'm 'bout to blow the fuck up
Into your dome-piece, home-peace
I catch more wreck in a minute than if you rhyme for ten days
I mean my lean is gangsta though so check it
I'm 'bout to blow the fuck up
I'm 'bout to blow the fuck up
Reflex sets the pitch vocals rip through projects
You rookie motherfuckers it's the finals not the play-offs
Don't even ask me, 'cause I'm livin' lovely
'Cause the Gang Starr sound carries more weight per pound
I'm 'bout to blow the fuck up
I'm way past the kid shit, brothers already did shit
Peace to Jeru, The Big Shug and The Group Home
Get off, hands off, stay off, you're way off
You little fool, come learn the tools of the trade
And if you keep talkin' shit, I'ma make ya pay homage
