Style Wars Lyrics
| Song | Style Wars |
| Artist | Masta Ace |
| Album | SlaughtaHouse |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Clear | |
| *Punk mother fucker* | |
| Check it out and a... | |
| It's the rick-e, here we go, tick-e, (?), | |
| <Verse 1> | |
| Yo my dick be, brown like (?), | |
| I'll be flyin', | |
| Heads with my scientifical, | |
| (?), your brain cells are fryin', | |
| (?), packin' a tour, | |
| Mackin', jackin', smackin' a whore, | |
| So fuck ladi dadi a, | |
| Any other hottie a, | |
| I get wreck like the planes at LaGuardia, | |
| I'm rowdy like Roddy Piper, I'm hyper, | |
| Type of guy to let it fly like a sniper, | |
| Viper, flashin', slashin' a verse and, | |
| ...nigger black like a hearse and, | |
| Cursin' crazy, dirty ass mouth, | |
| My dick is longer than 95-South, | |
| Damn, I'm teed off like Howie, Like Roxanne I'm real, | |
| Plus I'm the Master who talk what he feel, | |
| Like a eel, electrifyin', I'm tryin', | |
| Stop the madness the black man is dyin', | |
| Word up, dialect for the dome, | |
| I live in a cage but the cage ain't my home, | |
| I'm a chrome down and a wide body kit, | |
| I'm bold like that shit you wash your clothes with, | |
| So sit down and check out how I am, | |
| *He's Biz Markie* but that's not who I am. | |
| <Hook> | |
| Hut one, hut two, hut three, hut four, | |
| That is the sound when it's time to go to war. | |
| <Verse 2> | |
| Follow me and a, | |
| Everybody, everybody, follow me and a, | |
| You wanna go to war with the nigga then you're sick, | |
| I'm quick with the hut one, two that I kick, | |
| Ass, pumpin' like gas through your town, | |
| And I won't turn my jungle music down, | |
| You can call it what you want but I came to cause a comotion, | |
| Check out the flow son, you might fit the notion, | |
| You run but you can not hide there's no escapin', | |
| The super-duper, hero with a cape and, | |
| Your son bought my tape and, | |
| You're wanted for raping my mother, | |
| My culture you just left a gapin' hole, | |
| I'm in control like Marley, | |
| I'm crashing my jeep into your bullshit Harley, | |
| So get off the road rednecks here I come, | |
| With a 121 kids from the slums gettin' dumb, | |
| Brooklyn, the Bronx, Watts, Queens, Compton, and 20 other spots, | |
| Yo I be writin' up the mad composition, | |
| Mission to uplift black man's position, | |
| Then go fishin' and catch me a whale, | |
| A great big white one and put him on sale, | |
| If I fail, | |
| I'm gonna go back and put 'em in jail, | |
| And make 'em smoke crack and get 'em off track and, | |
| Even up the score, | |
| Attack his daughter and treat her like a whore, | |
| Fool, Masta Ace is the kid, | |
| Makin' sure that the punk mother f'ers get did. | |
| <Hook> | |
| Hut one, hut two, hut three, hut four, | |
| That is the sound when it's time to go to war. | |
| Follow me and a, | |
| Everybody, everybody, follow me and... | |
| That is the sound when it's time to go to war. |
| zuo ci : Clear | |
| Punk mother fucker | |
| Check it out and a... | |
| It' s the ricke, here we go, ticke, ?, | |
| Verse 1 | |
| Yo my dick be, brown like ?, | |
| I' ll be flyin', | |
| Heads with my scientifical, | |
| ?, your brain cells are fryin', | |
| ?, packin' a tour, | |
| Mackin', jackin', smackin' a whore, | |
| So fuck ladi dadi a, | |
| Any other hottie a, | |
| I get wreck like the planes at LaGuardia, | |
| I' m rowdy like Roddy Piper, I' m hyper, | |
| Type of guy to let it fly like a sniper, | |
| Viper, flashin', slashin' a verse and, | |
| ... nigger black like a hearse and, | |
| Cursin' crazy, dirty ass mouth, | |
| My dick is longer than 95South, | |
| Damn, I' m teed off like Howie, Like Roxanne I' m real, | |
| Plus I' m the Master who talk what he feel, | |
| Like a eel, electrifyin', I' m tryin', | |
| Stop the madness the black man is dyin', | |
| Word up, dialect for the dome, | |
| I live in a cage but the cage ain' t my home, | |
| I' m a chrome down and a wide body kit, | |
| I' m bold like that shit you wash your clothes with, | |
| So sit down and check out how I am, | |
| He' s Biz Markie but that' s not who I am. | |
| Hook | |
| Hut one, hut two, hut three, hut four, | |
| That is the sound when it' s time to go to war. | |
| Verse 2 | |
| Follow me and a, | |
| Everybody, everybody, follow me and a, | |
| You wanna go to war with the nigga then you' re sick, | |
| I' m quick with the hut one, two that I kick, | |
| Ass, pumpin' like gas through your town, | |
| And I won' t turn my jungle music down, | |
| You can call it what you want but I came to cause a comotion, | |
| Check out the flow son, you might fit the notion, | |
| You run but you can not hide there' s no escapin', | |
| The superduper, hero with a cape and, | |
| Your son bought my tape and, | |
| You' re wanted for raping my mother, | |
| My culture you just left a gapin' hole, | |
| I' m in control like Marley, | |
| I' m crashing my jeep into your bullshit Harley, | |
| So get off the road rednecks here I come, | |
| With a 121 kids from the slums gettin' dumb, | |
| Brooklyn, the Bronx, Watts, Queens, Compton, and 20 other spots, | |
| Yo I be writin' up the mad composition, | |
| Mission to uplift black man' s position, | |
| Then go fishin' and catch me a whale, | |
| A great big white one and put him on sale, | |
| If I fail, | |
| I' m gonna go back and put ' em in jail, | |
| And make ' em smoke crack and get ' em off track and, | |
| Even up the score, | |
| Attack his daughter and treat her like a whore, | |
| Fool, Masta Ace is the kid, | |
| Makin' sure that the punk mother f' ers get did. | |
| Hook | |
| Hut one, hut two, hut three, hut four, | |
| That is the sound when it' s time to go to war. | |
| Follow me and a, | |
| Everybody, everybody, follow me and... | |
| That is the sound when it' s time to go to war. |
| zuò cí : Clear | |
| Punk mother fucker | |
| Check it out and a... | |
| It' s the ricke, here we go, ticke, ?, | |
| Verse 1 | |
| Yo my dick be, brown like ?, | |
| I' ll be flyin', | |
| Heads with my scientifical, | |
| ?, your brain cells are fryin', | |
| ?, packin' a tour, | |
| Mackin', jackin', smackin' a whore, | |
| So fuck ladi dadi a, | |
| Any other hottie a, | |
| I get wreck like the planes at LaGuardia, | |
| I' m rowdy like Roddy Piper, I' m hyper, | |
| Type of guy to let it fly like a sniper, | |
| Viper, flashin', slashin' a verse and, | |
| ... nigger black like a hearse and, | |
| Cursin' crazy, dirty ass mouth, | |
| My dick is longer than 95South, | |
| Damn, I' m teed off like Howie, Like Roxanne I' m real, | |
| Plus I' m the Master who talk what he feel, | |
| Like a eel, electrifyin', I' m tryin', | |
| Stop the madness the black man is dyin', | |
| Word up, dialect for the dome, | |
| I live in a cage but the cage ain' t my home, | |
| I' m a chrome down and a wide body kit, | |
| I' m bold like that shit you wash your clothes with, | |
| So sit down and check out how I am, | |
| He' s Biz Markie but that' s not who I am. | |
| Hook | |
| Hut one, hut two, hut three, hut four, | |
| That is the sound when it' s time to go to war. | |
| Verse 2 | |
| Follow me and a, | |
| Everybody, everybody, follow me and a, | |
| You wanna go to war with the nigga then you' re sick, | |
| I' m quick with the hut one, two that I kick, | |
| Ass, pumpin' like gas through your town, | |
| And I won' t turn my jungle music down, | |
| You can call it what you want but I came to cause a comotion, | |
| Check out the flow son, you might fit the notion, | |
| You run but you can not hide there' s no escapin', | |
| The superduper, hero with a cape and, | |
| Your son bought my tape and, | |
| You' re wanted for raping my mother, | |
| My culture you just left a gapin' hole, | |
| I' m in control like Marley, | |
| I' m crashing my jeep into your bullshit Harley, | |
| So get off the road rednecks here I come, | |
| With a 121 kids from the slums gettin' dumb, | |
| Brooklyn, the Bronx, Watts, Queens, Compton, and 20 other spots, | |
| Yo I be writin' up the mad composition, | |
| Mission to uplift black man' s position, | |
| Then go fishin' and catch me a whale, | |
| A great big white one and put him on sale, | |
| If I fail, | |
| I' m gonna go back and put ' em in jail, | |
| And make ' em smoke crack and get ' em off track and, | |
| Even up the score, | |
| Attack his daughter and treat her like a whore, | |
| Fool, Masta Ace is the kid, | |
| Makin' sure that the punk mother f' ers get did. | |
| Hook | |
| Hut one, hut two, hut three, hut four, | |
| That is the sound when it' s time to go to war. | |
| Follow me and a, | |
| Everybody, everybody, follow me and... | |
| That is the sound when it' s time to go to war. |
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