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Текст песни Masta Ace Incorporated - Aint U Da Masta

Masta Ace Incorporated - Aint U Da Masta слова песни




Here come the jams, yo punks, guard your domesIts the man with the mad new styles and funky poemsSo strike one, strike two, strike three, youre outOf luck, jack, fuck that, grab your nuts and shout(aint you the masta? ) yep, Ive always beenAnd then, Im a stab a fucking critic with his penSo write that, put that in your magazine and stick itIm wicked, just like a witch when I kick itSo break out your charts and scales and try to rate meGive me a one, son, yep I hope you hate meCause Im a keep on bringing it, Im swinging itSharp like glass til your punk ass is swinging itRiff-raff, your whole damn staff I have to cut upI drop bombs, Im fatter than your moms, so what up? I come from the planet of raps on, oh yeahBeam me up steady, theres no skills down hereSo there, you little punk sitting in your chairSoon youre gonna know the score kids, I swear(aint you the masta? ) yep, Im the masta (repeat 4x)I hits you hard kids, youre barred from the mic andRhymes kick like pele, rough like a dyke andPraise me, masta, off beat, the healerRap styles deisel like an 18-wheelerSo get that weak style out of my pathIm turbo, I drop lines long like nostran ave.So danger, Im burning from monday to sundayIm hot like some niggas 10 deep in a hyndaiSo make way, I drop mad heavy like the fridgeIm sacking, youre wack and youre over like the bridgeThis little rabbit tried to diss me, but fuck itI got duckets, one day that rabbit kicks the bucketYou know (I know) you know (I know)You know, you know, well yo follow where I goJane, stop this crazy thing if I singSome love shit and dress mad fly, Id be the kingAnd be seen on the covers of like 27 booksBut Im too proud to beg, so suck this, you crooksYoure only as good as your last jam, its trueYour shits new, everybody wants an interviewBut then, oh how quick they forgetWith no hit, they like "whos that? " they full of shitAnd straight up, my patience is starting to wear shortIm gonna land blows like your head was an airportSay cheese you theif, let me see your teethCause Im ultra-magnetic, magnetic like kool keithSo abra, cadabra, presto and change-oThe off-beat, on-beat style is kinda strange yoIt dops here, it drops there, its off then its onTo the breaka, to the breaka, to the breaka of umm dawnHere I come with bones by the sack forSpraypaint, I tage my f-ing name on your back, punk(aint you the masta? ) yep, Im the masta (repeat 4x)

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