Special Ed

Special Ed - Neva Go Back lyrics

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I'm gettin' restless
 What guessless
 I'm rushin' the percusion
 End of discusion
 Now as you were
 Your rhymes soft like fur
 Oh' you wright for her
 Well that explanit it
 But I reign it  I rule it
 So cool it  while I school it
 Listen to percision
 Rhyming  timing  climbing through your window
 (Crooklyn style) be in yo
 Damagin' your whole premises
 Don't never diss
 Cause here's your address
 Cause me by yes, so come test me no
 Like Patra, I got it soul like Sanatra
 Organize rhymes in effect
 Snap that neck, like E-Double if there be trouble
 So, move on, there's nothing to see here
 Clear the area
 Your rhymes are dead, hit the berrier
 To vary a I'm very a effetive I might add
 Original rude, since I was a little lad

 (chorus: I neva go back, I neva flowed wack
 I just come back, I just come phat 2x)

 Verse 2:

 I'm pumpin' like Donivan plus
 I'm a little vicious
 I eat mcees cause they delicious
 It's just, that so mistrust but I dust rhymes like a maid
 Now I'm back with How
 Stompin' like a parade, all up and down Fifth Ave
 So you riff have plenty of back, cause I attack, like blood cells
 Fighting off diseased mcees
 Like Super Freinds, in a metropolis, in a super Bense
 With Howie, now we, got two threes
 Fuck it, six, gimmie the mix, and I'm a kill em' with the lyrics
 So dig a plot, and nigga got, seven
 Never doubt, I go all out, scadida
 You need a map
 You need a rap
 You need a slap
 You need a nap
 So take one, because your tired
 I get so phat, I feel wired
 But I never sell, or fall, cause I never fell

 (chorus: 2x)

 Verse 3:

 I don't beg
 I break your leg like an egg
 And fry it try it, and see what happen when I'm rappin'
 Shit start
 So don't get smart like Max
 Cause cold hard facts prevail
 I don't sell, I don't turn pale
 But I'm very ill, I'm fatal
 I rock rhymes like a cradle
 Many days, many ways, let me count em'
 Everybody that I caught, everybody thought
 But but, bu bu but, don't stutta
 Just say it
 Shit is budda
 Now don't that feel betta
 Get a sweata
 Cause it's gettin' colda
 Every time I holda
 Mic, niggaz freeze up, so eaze up like, off the scrotum
 Cause you wrote um', like you know dum'
 So let me show dum', real rhymes
 Cause I feel I might start buggin', if you don't back up off the mic
 The lyrical war is on, and so I strike

 Chorus 4X
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Copyrights:

Author: Howard Thompson (6)

Composer: ?

Publisher: Profile Records, Inc.

Details:

Released in: 1995

Language: English

Appearing on: Revelations (1995)

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