The Artifacts

The Artifacts - Where Yo Skills At lyrics

Your rating:
Artifacts be the best in this MC fest
 Rest any intentions we here to mention we the fresh
 Newark natives, Polo king bringin the zing
 to your Walkman, check it how we talk and sing
 Breakin that thing, lyrical jackin, mackin
 All so-called cypher rappin niggaz I'm smackin
 No tricks with fits inflict the hurt like Frank Thomas
 To never make the wack jams, to my peers I promise
 Atomic, yet, niggaz gonna have to respect
 what we're bringin to the table check my dialect
 Alphabeta, wetta, than your man who says he can
 take a whole block, we put that ass on lock and
 Styles be groovy, fake niggaz can't fool me
 cause I'm a fly brown brother and you can't school me
 Tools be, always sharpened for MC's that be startin
 up shit, and can't fuck with, this rap sargeant
 Bluffin, talkin bout nothin, in fact
 These crews be wack, so may I ask, where yo skillz at?
 Chorus
 [Tame One]
 It's no doubt what I'm about bustin yo shit out with my lyrical
 Smokin botanicals I be the man that makes the miracles
 Invisible if need be, see me on TV and on CD
 smokin beadies in 3-D doin graffiti
 My mechanical style, interlocks rocks and shocks
 cause I'm hot, X marks the spot like Sadat watch
 I'm so tight with mine, nickel and dime rhymers
 are smokin one quarter pushin off the corner from foul line
 Prime time teams rewind and can't find mine
 They all left behind because my rhymes lack guidelines
 Wings get pushed back from hairlines to asscracks
 So check ASCAP, on Artifacts soundtracks
 So act ill, I can peel a skill like fresh bills
 Crack a rapper like a Phills I smack more ass than Benny Hill
 but chill a minute, I'm all up in it infinite potential
 Newark, Jew Jersey resedential areas I turn to burial plots
 for MC's, who don't believe what I conceive
 Or leave a whole team speechless, gettin jives to Chucky Cheese
 I'm like Jesus to the mic, write My Life out like Mary
 I'm oh-Blige-d to J. any ghetto queen that's sanitary
 Don't play me too close, you'll get roasted by the human torch
 from Newark, I'm blowin up spots without tour support
 I distort thoughts, with izm sticks and quarts
 Laughin at rappers who come at me in soft packs like Newports
 I walk that talk, get down and dirty like New York
 That's why I'm still fat, beef kill that, nigga where yo skillz at?
 Chorus
 [El Da Sensai]
 But, back to the subject at hand
 Peep my battle plan and I'll be forced to chop that hand
 off soft brothers yo they can't withstand
 the pressure, prepare the stretcher and the Dristan
 Cause in nine-six, these MC's can't miss
 If you purchase this, then you see why brothers kinda pissed it's
 the Mr. Flip Lipper always stayin dipped
 Always talkin shit, always hittin hallways and shit
 [Tame One]
 I play the parks after dark and spark L's until my head bust
 and then bust, plus when I get dusted you'll get messed up
 Rollin with razors neighbors hate me cause I'm famous
 Tame is accurate back with battle raps fat like battleships
 Constantly open like a hood rat that's smokin
 Got bitches in Hoboken overdosin off my potions
 Wet like oceans, my notebook looks atrocious
 Be dissin vocal coaches I don't let them hit my roaches
 I handle my Biz like Warner
 Brothers be on the corner talkin gossip, hot cause they ain't got shit
 Watch this... where yo skillz at nigga?
 Chorus
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Language: English

Share your thoughts

This form is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

0 Comments found