MC Lyte
MC Lyte - 10% Dis songtekst
Je score:
(11 seconds of audio collage at the intro) *MC Lyte's voice gradually fades in* Hot damn, hot damn, hot damn, hot damn Hot damn! Hot damn hoe, here we go again Suckers steal a beat, when you know they can't win You stole the beat, are you havin fun? Now me and the Aud's gonna show you how it's done You are what I label as a, nerver plucker You're pluckin my nerves, you MC sucka I thought I oughta tell you, better yet warn That I am like a stop, and my word is Bond like James, killin everybody in sight The code's three-six, the name is Lyte After this jam, I really don't give a damn Cause I'ma run and tell your whole damn clan that you're a "Beat biter! Dope style taker! Tell you to your face you ain't nuttin but a faker!" (repeat 2X) Hit me why don'tcha, hit me why don'tcha? Milk's bodyguard, is my bodyguard too You wanna get hurt, well this is what you do You put your left foot up, and then your right foot next Follow instructions, don't lose the context Thirty days a month your mood is rude We know the cause of your bloody attitude "Beat biter! Dope style taker! Tell you to your face you ain't nuttin but a faker!" (repeat 2X) Your style is smooth, even for a cheatin mic You shoulda won applause as a Rakim sound-alike Here's a Milkbone, a sign of recognition Don't turn away, I think you should listen close Don't boast, you said you wasn't braggin You fuckin liar, you're chasin a chuckwagon The only way you learn you have to be taught that if a beat is not for sale, then it can't be bought When you leave the mic, you claim it's smokin Unlike Rakim, you are a Joke and I think you oughta stop, before you gets in too deep Cause with a sister like Lyte, yo I don't sleep "Beat biter! Dope style taker! Tell you to your face you ain't nuttin but a faker!" (repeat 2X) When I'm in a jam, with my homegirl Jill My cousin Trey across the room with a posse to kill So I step in the middle, shake it just a little Wait for some female to step up and pop junk Give my cousin a cue, treat the girl like a punk Now I'm not tryin to say that I'm into static But yo if you cause it, yup, we gotta have it Cause I ain't goin out like a sucker no way So I sit around the way for you to make my day We can go for the hands, better yet for the words Cause you'll be ignored, and at the same time, I'll be heard throughout the city, the town and the country The beat is funky, my rhyme is spunky There is no delayin in the rhyme I'm sayin Neither are the flaws of what my DJ is playin So SIT BACK Jack, and listen to this It's 10% Dis.. cause I'm just about ready to fly this fist against your lips! But I'll wait for the day or night that you approach and I'ma serve then burn ya like a piece of, toast! Pop you in the microwave to watch your head bubble Your skin just crumble, a battle's no trouble Get my homegirls Dohni and Kiki to get stupid This thing called hip-hop, Lyte is rulin it I hate to laugh in your face, but you're funny Your beat, your rhymin, your timin, all crummy On the topic of rappin, I should write a pamphlet Better yet a booklet.. Your rap is weak homegirl and it's definitely crooked! Others write your rhymes, while I write my own I don't create a character, when I'm on the microphone I am myself, no games to be played No script to be written, no scene to be made I am the director, as far as you are concerned You don't believe me, then you'll have to learn This ain't as hard as MC Lyte can get And matter of fact, you ain't seen nothin yet! So never let me step into a party hardy Talk to some people and then hear from somebody 'You wanna battle?' cause you know where I am You don't wanna come in the 90's and see me at a jam when a, mic is handy, ten feet away I stretch my arm like elastic, head like a magnetic Set assure, you know I don't play When it comes down to it, the nitty gritty For a sucker like you I feel a whole lot of pity "Beat biter! Dope style taker! Tell you to your face you ain't nuttin but a faker!" (repeat 2X)