Souls Of Mischief

Souls Of Mischief - '94 Via Satellite lyrics

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 Yeah  y'all niggaz don't know nothin about this
 What that nigga say? Enrich Oakland funk
 Hah  gonna take that shit serious

 Verse One: Tajai

 Man fuck an MC
 I got a tip that's fat and lengthy like a 40 pistol
 for your missus  baby she'll do me 'fore you miss this
 sporty shit whips your man senseless
 Them obese hits  with thick wrists  so spin them ten bits
 and come up, like these sucker punks won't even run up
 and speak, we the reason that your shit is called weak
 And y'all our liveliehood, as long as it's understood
 The crew be rippin this, and you be strippin this
 like it was hubs, why? Because we cuttin them dubs
 so fuckin fat, that you gotta bite that, we got it like that
 I'm not no type actor hoopster singer or nothing
 We'll hook the track up, and I'll become the, decisive factor
 Y'all niggaz can't dream to think about this shit
 You can bite it
 But by that time it'll be too late cuz it's already been recited
 Come rip this shit

 Verse Two: Del

 Ha ha ha ha!!
 I try not to be, too tempermental
 Everything I do yes it's true it's meant for mental renovation
 With innovation laced it, embalming fluid
 flew it through your speaker do it make you want to seek your soul
 like Nat King Cole, my shit is gold
 I hold a pole of polarity, like a wand and fondle phrases
 ages, before you ever heard a lion roar
 My minions were preparing for my birth to unearth the black core
 The pearl of persistance to keep your interest
 Keep evildoers outside with fences
 I make my rhymes audible and portable and sort it for
 the burst of energy cuz it's affordable of course
 there's more to throw, to the sharks, and modify the marks
 Perhaps I use a parable of Rosa Parks, on the front of the bus
 I don't discuss coming less than us
 Dirty devils never ques-tion us!!

 Yeah, Hieroglyphics in the house, Souls of Mischief
 Yeah check it out

 Verse Three: A-Plus

 It's the grill buster, the ill Plus-ter
 My skills must abominate, niggaz who ain't rhymin great I debate
 The situation's critical
 The shit you say is pitiful
 Your skill tank is empty and my shit is full
 Went to school unleaded
 No one in this world ever said it, get beheaded by the crew dreaded
 MC dicer, I'sa
 little bit wiser, but yo my shit is nicer, the ill price you pay
 is this, I slice MC's with my greatest hits
 We take no shit in rap, that's it, you wack
 So get your ass on, nigga bomb
 Be in the cut 'fore I get my blast on
 nigga earl's how you're comin at me, so I'ma brandish MC's
 Until they vanish with ease, causin damage with these

 Souls of Mischief in the house
 Hieroglyphics, Opio come rip this shit for the crew

 Verse Four: Opio

 Yeah, one two one two
 Who me?? Yeah see I'm only out for one thing
 Domination, encasing MC's chasing they dreams
 Evaded and slipped clean through the system
 mauled shaken-up and touchy cuz we dissed em
 Bitch you need to listen to this one
 The tension, to get your heart rate quickens
 damn near beating out your chest, ya can't predict what's next
 I bet conviction is stressful, MC's that bite they wrestle
 with the mic, all night, hoping to recite
 Excite, captivate the crowd, make my momma proud, now
 Never ever will I drain, Souls of Mischief supreme
 the crown tipped, to the side, you don't wanna collide
 A landslide victory for the team they all died
 Nigga, yeah, it's like that and-uh, it's like that and-uh
 It's like that and-uh

 Verse Five: Phesto

 A Hieroglyphics yeah
 Clearly distinguished from these incompetent niggaz
 playin possum with the mic, suckin peanuts
 Tryin to be Phes, freak it with a twist
 but missed, by a long shot, I hope they all flop
 I manipulate the mic as a concussive force
 No remorse for, preluckin MC's
 I couldn't be cut with, the keenest of blades
 Holstering the limits of pressing in it, projecting my image
 like a hologram, reanimatin MC's
 Shamrock deceased, base Phes jus dissipated the rest
 A waiting antihistamine is distressed and jaded
 Phes escalated as the mack of all trades

 Yeah, uh-huh
 Souls of Mischief, Hieroglyphics, throw your hands in the air c'mon!
 Yeah, you know we don't stop
 Oakland California, hah

 Lettin niggaz know
Get this song at:


Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: Jive


Released in: 1995

Language: English

Appearing on: No Man's Land (1995)

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