And if you want beef, then bring the ruckus.
And if you want beef, then bring the ruckus.
I bomb atomically, Socrates’ philosophies and hypotheses can’t define how I be droppin’ these mockeries.
Superbad, who am I? Dolemite classic.
Ain’t nothing gon’ stop kid from getting his due. No, your feets not big enough to fit in his shoe.
What is there to talk about? You was just frontin’, now it ain’t nothin’, ain’t that somethin’?
Formed in a very strong advanced post, east to west coast, ahead of time, competition not even half close.
Yo, my words should never fail, shootin’ darts sharper than a carpenters nail.
My hip-hop will rock and shock the nation like the Emancipation Proclamation. Weak MCs approach with slang that’s dead – you might as well run into the wall and bang your head.
In the hood, it’s against all odds, you spit 16 bars.
Watch your step, kid (yo, you best protect ya neck).
The most duplicated, anticipated, validated urban legends in the books with the ones who made it.