Be feelin' like a deadly secret agent on assignment
'Cause you keep comin' with rhymes guns so deeply
Boom bap to your cap if your eyes is lookin' shiftee
To let this drunk technique leak through out the nation
Wit skills they couldn't teach your ass at Cal State Fullerton
The host wit the most, I'm coast to coast like Aunt Peela
'Cause my style be up in niggaz like I'm Oscar De La Hoya
We gotta title to hold, west coast ghetto gold
Put I choose to stick to the streets like a crayon
Yo I walk in the place, kicks un-laced
And there ain't no tellin' when we bout to explode
And I think this motherfuckin' engineer is a queer
Get stress off my chest every time I bust a verse
We only battle decent niggaz, so be glad y'all suck
Without the coke-in, the fuckin' DAT machine is smokin'
Contents under pressure
And my dip is blowin' up my hip whats up honey
When you see me on the mic we go buck for buck
that some niggaz stole while I was at a meeting wit my label
A friend before I bring the end to your bodily functions
'Cause Tash in the streets plays for keeps on micros
I'm in the zone like the Bulls at home
I hope for the best and expect the worst
Poundin' your surroundin', stuffin' at you from the Liks
'Cause Tash will rock your cradle wit the fatal rhymes that pound
The crew you got before ya, Tash the top gunner
Get the stress out or try to maintain like X and Gloria
It's the never ending quest for west coast rap titles
I'm stressed out, for weeks wit no sleep
Example is the school of mankind niggaz so peep me
You Range-Rovin', Tommy Hil and bustin' glocks
Like tall cans in the freezer when they get too cold
Wit a bitter beer face, naw a whole case
So try to stay on float while the current pulls you under
Wassup wavy, thanks to my homey King Tee-la
The pizza still ain't here, we out of beer
So bounce to the lyrics of the noble Likwit warrior
(A 40?)
You comin' up empty like your Mother Hubbard's cabinet
Who need to come join these words like conjunction
Don't fuck wit microfilms, I want the microphones and tables
Aww, shit
We still under pressure, thats my motivation
When I speak I go deep, like when I'm stabbin' it
While I'm in the studio bustin' lyrics in my socks
Ain't no describin', the way that Tash be feelin' when he's vibin'
And no roll in the studio 'cause I know this shits gotta blow
These rappers come out hard then turn fake like rayon
Contents unda pressure, contents unda pressure
While I'm off that Royal Crown gettin' party at the Atmospheric
'Cause read what it stands fool, like on the bulletin
Get stress off my chest every time I bust a verse
Contents unda pressure, contents unda pressure
And the A C is broken, no jokin', we got the worm
I hope for the best and expect the worst
In order to go pop, we'd have to stop comin' fresher
Put you down 'cause your lyrics suck more than Divine Brown
(Eh, J-Ro the land lord really wants his money)
In this game of rappin' your ass will never win
Wit the Alkie style that rock you and made Quantum wanna leap
'Cause if I take ten steps and turn around I'll destroy ya
Styles harder to decode than graffiti on the bricks
More than half a million know these beats got soul
Wit the 40's and the Hennessey to get y'all in the spirit
Wit mad stains on my shirt from all the beer and foam
'Cause the crew wit all the brew, buries squads like treasures
So read my tag and weep while I drive you off the deep
We be the drunken masters of ceremonies
And let you play B B Rickers wit Quik, Suge and Mack 10
The Cowboys beat the Steelers so nigga where's my 50 dollar
Wit flows like these, we not your average MC's
