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It's Yours

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Verse one, verse two I practice tae kwon do, nut-fu, and voodoo See me, you ain't got to feel me Just believe me Riff raffs, I give you the heebie-jeebies You be a memory just like The Bee Gees Snap that neck blues Just like you're Stevie Wonder man, you been wonderin' How I can whirlwind around the earth And bring the thunder in Rain, hail, sleet, and snow Yo, I catch fire like phosphorus While I stomp these streets I'm a hip hop colossus I'll need no brass knuckles for niggas I've got this Won't you pass me a mic so I can rock this Now just listen to the rhyme and jot this I came in the game wipin' up the corner Everybody don't step up, they be a goner Smoke emcees like Dutch Masters Hit it faster, give me the mic I bless you like a pastor I'm on top of my game, I drive you insane Take the wildest beat and make The shit seem tame Nowadays, you either hot or you lame I be the type of cat That straight hit's your brain The mathematical, El Lyrical I be the type of emcee to Burn you up with syllables Like that, you know it's like that When I attack there ain't an Army that can strike back it's yours! Would you want it? Would you want it? If I had it would you Want it? Well it's yours I'm the illest spitter ever to get it Ever to fit in i grabbin' a mic or I can Hit you with a smidgen What? Who I am? Check it out, who I be I bow to the crowd who fiend for my energy Rhymes so accurate, raps I smack you with I drop down to the earth so I can practice Wordplay, spit it for flying guillotines Multiple blows, multiple foes Poisonous backflips Go ahead and catch a bloody nose No one knows I strike when the wind blows Spit venom, drink gas, breathe fire No one's higher Go ahead and burn in the fire Emcees trying to step up and be the sire I had to let you know I got a son named Zia Stick your neck out Your head done roll like a tire Afu-Ra take it higher and higher I'm the type of cat that Someday you gonna read about Spit that ill shit over the track 'til I bleed from my mouth Dissecting your rap connection afu-Ra, yo It's motherfucking chin checkin' So if you want to test your god Satan hit's you with a style That'll make you retarded Like that, you know it's like that When I attack there ain't an Army that can strike back it's yours! Would you want it? Would you want it? If I had it would you Want it? Well it's yours