(You) (you) (you) (you rappers can't be like Fred)

(You) (you) (you) (you rappers can't be like Fred

(You) (you) (you) (you rappers can't be like Fred

A-) (a-) (a-) (a-) (a-) (a-) (and you hate it)



[ VERSE 1 ]

This is a rap session

And I'm the man at the podium speakin

Keepin you dancin and freakin

I came alive from the world of streets, baddest beats

And bashed up a lotta MC's to find my seat

So cover your chest, protect your head

If a rhyme catches your mind sleep, you fall dead

I kick it wicked like a wizard, rhymin every letter

To beat me, you got to have a army or better

Bum-rushin other rappers like Rhyme-O-Cop

This is a contact sport, it's called hip-hop

You suckers can't hang when I'm rhymin fast

Cause your mic doesn't have enough power to last

But when I slow it down to a moderate speed

You catch a migraine headache and a nose bleed

Whenever I break wild, you call Jake

You try to slow me down, but your first mistake

Was to ever approach me with your primitive skills

Not a backyard party rapper tryin to get ill

I'm a pro, professional rhymes leave my lips

My rhymes coinicde with your dancin hips

Kut Terror place his scratch wild, and hold the beat steady

Cause I'm ready



[ VERSE 2 ]

When I hit the stage, pandemonium rises

Cause I delight the crowd with different surprises

Beatbreaks play, and the king has arisen

Chump rappers in the back start ploppin and fizzin

I always keep my eyes on a worthy opponent

Cause it'll really be a trick to see em lose, won't it?

I keep myself ready and prepared for all

I handle whatever call, too strong to fall

When you see Freddie Foxxx, you know you'll be entertained

When the show's all over and the sound remains

In your brain and you walk away sayin my rhyme

Feelin good like a man that don't eat swine

Fall asleep at night, and you start to dream

If you was a paid rapper on the hip-hop scene

You'd be heavy on the neck, and your pockets are fat

But bein a rap star's a bit more than that

You have to have a listenin ear for new ideas

And speak your words fluent, so everything's clear

The mumblin jumbo's a comical gimmick

That the devils make money off and suckers can mimick

When you run out of rhymes, gonna stand there sweaty

Cause you wasn't ready



Like Freddie the Foxxx

I'm ready



[ VERSE 3 ]

Street rappers hear a style that they like a lot

When they make that first record, their rhymes are hot

Not hot like you hear it on the radio all the time

But hot like stolen rhymes

Whatever's whispered in darkness, has to come to light

So imagine what would happen if I gave you the mic

One night, and you recite somethin you didn't write

If it belonged to Freddie Foxxx, you might have to fight

I throw jabs and rights, left hooks and hay-makers

Only luck can duck the bone-breaker

You're caught in a vice grip, tight and squeezin

Whinin and cryin, beggin and pleadin

I'm lyrical and mystical, I want you to know

Cause when you gear up to come to a show

Don't wonder why thunder hit my stage

It's Freddie Foxxx on a rappin rage

I make rappers real nervous, give em the jitters

Give em 'e' for effin and I beat up the quitter

Hold my hand around his neck and I grab him by the hair

Then Karate-kick him like Mataka Bear

Rappers boast and brag about their lyrical skills

But they all shut the fuck up when I break ill

Cause I take all races and house both sexes

They got a reason to sweat the three X's

I'm ready