Текст песни King Tee - Check The Flow
King Tee - Check The Flow слова песни
* not 100% sure this is the mcs name[chorus]We got them, sledge, (? ) ruff heads (check the flow)King tees on the set (check the flow)When niggaz try to get high-tech (check the flow)The dialects on the flex[sledge]Watch this, when I shine I bring rainClouds, bust storms, yo, this aint the normWhen I perform, I get you up out your seatGet down with the real deal skills, then chillThen show your ass how to get amped, then lampStretch, flex, then tackle whats nextCause mcs, that luck up, need to hush upWho cant brush up, on their rap style, shut the fuck upThen duck from the one that gets buck-wildI chop your ass in half, with a smileBig grin, all teeth, for those who got beefFuckin with me ock, youre six feet deepDown in the ground, alone with no soundWhile Im up here chillin, top billinAnd illin, on all those, who opposeI wanna take one more shot, strike a pose, uhh![chorus][king tee]Smash, here comes the one that talks trashTo garbage mcs, who try to diss meAnd my crew - the ill ville animal cannibalBackbreakers, government amputatorsBounce to this if you think you know the hitsAnd all you gassed-up critics, put the brakes on the shitCause Im tired of this, and Im tired of thatMotherfuckers sayin king tees shit was wackBut in fact, my rhymes crack backs and make money stacksBy the truckload, now lets go for the goldSo strap on your seatbelt yo and lets goAnd get down, to the sound that burns quickCause Im about to burn rubber, on this numberAnd any mc who claims his style is legitSuckers wanna try me? (I know not why tee)I light that ass up like the 4th of july g, uhh![chorus][t] check the flow, check the flow, check the flow yo[s] check the flow, check the flow, check the flow yo[t] check the flow, check the flow, check the flow yo[s] check the flow, check the flow, check the flow[sledge]Capital s-l, crooked letter humpback fuck thatThump that, shit thats never wackCause this goes out too all the niggaz that we rushinTo hear the shit Im bustin over ruptured percussionIt aint my fault that Im layin niggaz down like asphaultAnd blow your ass away like chalk, dustThen crush your monkey-ass unto the sideCause wrecked dialect is causin lyrical genocide[king tee]I stress facts like irs wants taxFrom anyone claimin that theyre livin, kind of fatYou see, I could get sick in the thick of shitI turn my toes up, when it goes up, my foes buttHey nigga back-steps, even you can get hitIm more crankier than a bitch on the shit!Niggaz get heated cause they just got defeatedBy the two man team, the sledge and the king, uhh![chorus]