Текст песни Masta Ase, Inc. - The Big East, слова песни Masta Ase, Inc.

Текст песни Masta Ase, Inc. - The Big East

Masta Ase, Inc. - The Big East слова песни

Awwww....yeaaaah...Who is the man with the hats with the snaps,droppin` the raps with the truth, to the youth that`s bustin` the caps?Who could it be? Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Is it a tree?No, it`s me: Capital-A, capital-S, capital-E.Boomin` like thunda, strikin` like lightnin`.Welcome to my Slaughtahouse, I know it`s frightenin`.I`m hittin` em over the head with lyrical styles like a bottle.My foot`s on the pedal, my hand is on the throttle.I`m turbo-boostin` from Houston to Vegas.You want us to quit, but shit, you can`t make us.There`s too much money to make, money to get, money to earn.My pockets are on "E", and I want money to burn.I got GUSTO, plus yo, I`m zeekin` `em.Rollin` with L.D., Ken, Eyce, and Neek and `em.Phat tracks, I`m freakin` `em, word to your auntie.It`s written all over your face, I know you want me.Scientifical mathematical war.Rhymes and beats harder than Trigonometry 4.So open your books to page one, and I`ll show you how it`s done,it`s the roughneck kid without a gun.I`m laughin`-- ha ha! -- it`s fun to watch you weep asyou`re cryin`, dyin`, try and figure out the Jeep AssNig-guh, bigger and better and badder than ever before,hittin` with hardcore lyrical calesthenics that make me sore.And the shower of fire, supplier of the real,get with the program and I`m slammin` like Shaquille.Right on your head, do what I said, backin` me up is the D: (Lord Digga:)You must be crazy if you wanna mess with me. Cuz I am not the one, kid.Oh no, he ain`t the one, son.The shank in my sock will chop you like an onion.So Boom, head for the hills, head for the freakin` border.I slaughter, like Great White Sharks, I`m makin` sparks. Refrain: 4x Comin` from the Big East, boy, we ain`t slippin`. ("Don`t you know?") Don`t even think about it, yeah.As I walk through Brooklyn, Compton or whatever,I wonder why black folks don`t wanna stick together.We talk about justice, and how little we get,yet black men be killin` black men for talkin` shit... (right...right...)("Here`s the one, that one that always talkin` shit...") [gun shots]How the hell we supposed to wage war against the powers that bewhen we are still our own worst enemy.That`s why I`m the Masta, I`m tryin` to tell you kid,I`ll break it down simply, right back to the freestiddyle.I`m bashin` --BREAKIN`-- I`ll fry you like bacon.I don`t smoke blunts, boy, you must be mistaken.I do smoke mics and MCs that come widdem.I hit `em and get `em and sit `em down, then I spit `emout some lyrical phlegm from deep within me.I`m not John, but I`m Madd-en I`ll give you Moore than Demi.I burn like tobasco, your ass, yo don`t beg (?)Miss Crabtree, Stumpy said you had a wooden leg.So I brought my axe and a box full of termites, cuz I got your big, fat booty in my sites.I`m not from Philly, but I fly like an Eagle,my rap book is thicker than a catalog from Spiegel.A Regal, I do not drive, I drive a Jeep andI should say drove one, some suckers caught me sleepin`.But next time they break in my car to rip the Ase off,I`ll have a pitbull waitin` to rip their freakin` face off. (Sick `em boy...) [barking and yelling] Refrain 4x("On and on and on, it`s on..." "On and on and on, it`s on...")

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Masta Ase, Inc.

The Big East

Текст песни Masta Ase, Inc. - The Big East

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