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zuò cí : Audio Two, MC Lyte |
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Hot damn, hot damn, hot damn, hot damn |
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Hot damn, hot damn ho, here we go again |
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Suckers steal a beat |
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When you know they can' t win |
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You stole the beat |
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Are you having fun |
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Now me and the Aud' s gonna show you how it' s done |
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You are what I label as a nerver plucker |
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You' re plucking my nerves you MC sucker |
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I thought I oughta tell you, better yet warn |
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That I am like a stock and my word is bond |
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Like James, killing everybody in sight |
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The code' s threesix |
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The name is Lyte |
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After this jam |
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I really don' t give a damn |
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Cause I' mma run and tell your whole damn clan |
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That you' re a |
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Beat biter, dope style taker |
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Tell you to your face you ain' t nothing but a faker |
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Beat biter, dope style taker |
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Tell you to your face you ain' t nothing but a faker |
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Hit me why don' t ya, hit me why don' t ya |
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Milk' s bodyguard is my bodyguard too |
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You wanna get hurt |
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Well this is what you do |
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You put your left foot up |
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And then your right foot next |
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Follow instructions |
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Don' t lose the context |
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Thirty days a month your mood is rude |
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We know the cause of your bloody attitude |
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Beat biter, dope style taker |
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Tell you to your face you ain' t nothing but a faker |
| [01:21.14] |
Beat biter, dope style taker |
| [01:23.45] |
Tell you to your face you ain' t nothing but a faker |
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Your style is smooth, even for a cheating mic |
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You shoulda won a prize as a Rakim soundalike |
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Here' s a Milkbone, a sign of recognition |
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Don' t turn away, I think you should listen close |
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Don' t boast, you said you wasn' t bragging |
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You fucking liar, you' re chasin a chuckwagon |
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The only way you learn you have to be taught |
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That if a beat is not for sale, then it can' t be bought |
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When you leave the mic, you claim it' s smoking |
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Unlike Rakim, you are a joke |
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And I think you ought to stop, before you get in too deep |
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Cause with a sister like Lyte, yo I don' t sleep |
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Beat biter, dope style taker |
| [02:00.94] |
Tell you to your face you ain' t nothing but a faker |
| [02:03.47] |
Beat biter, dope style taker |
| [02:05.93] |
Tell you to your face you ain' t nothing but a faker |
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When I' m in a jam, with my homegirl Jill |
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My cousin Trey across the room with a posse of girls |
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So I step in the middle, shake it just a little |
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Wait for some female to step up and pop junk |
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Give my cousin a cue, treat the girl like a punk |
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Now I' m not trying to say that I' m into static |
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But yo if you cause it, yep, we gotta have it |
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Cause I ain' t going out like a sucker no way |
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So I sit around the way for you to make my day |
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We can go for the hands, better yet for the words |
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Cause you' ll be ignored, and at the same time I' ll be heard |
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Throughout the city, the town and the country |
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The beat is funky, my rhyme is spunky |
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There is no delaying in the rhyme I' m saying |
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Neither are there flaws in what my DJ is playing |
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So sit back Jack, and listen to this, it' s 10 dis |
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Cause I' m just about ready to fly this fist against your lips |
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But I' ll wait for the day or night that you approach |
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And I' mma serve and burn ya like a piece of toast |
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Pop you in the microwave and watch your head bubble |
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Your skin just crumble, a battle' s no trouble |
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Get my homegirls Joanie and Kiki to get stupid |
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This thing called hiphop, Lyte is ruling it |
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I hate to laugh in your face, but you' re funny |
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Your beat, your rhyming, your timing, all crummy |
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On the topic of rapping, I should write a pamphlet better yet a booklet |
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Your rap is weak homegirl, and it' s definitely crooked |
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Others write your rhymes while I write my own |
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I don' t create a character when I' m on the microphone |
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I am myself, no games to be played |
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No script to be written, no scene to be made |
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I am the director, as far as you are concerned |
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You don' t believe me, then you' ll have to learn |
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This ain' t as hard as MC Lyte can get |
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Matter of fact, you ain' t seen nothing yet |
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So never let me step into a party hardy |
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Talk to some people and then hear from somebody |
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' You wanna battle?' cause you know where I am |
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You don' t wanna come in the 90' s and see me at a jam |
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When a mic is handy, ten feet away |
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I stretch my arm like elastic, head like a magnet |
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Set assure, you know I don' t play |
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When it comes down to it, the nitty gritty |
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For a sucker like you I feel a whole lot of pity |
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Beat biter, dope style taker |
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Tell you to your face you ain' t nothing but a faker |
| [04:22.42] |
Beat biter, dope style taker |
| [04:24.74] |
Tell you to your face you ain' t nothing but a faker |