The Undisputed Champs
Del the Funky Homosapien feat. Q‐Tip & Peplove
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Lyrics
Aight, hold up, hold up
Now, introducing, up front, my man Pep Love
My introduction, it's such an unbelievable pleasure
For you to treasure, and much needed to
Make it phat, though, on another plateau
You been needin' to get in the groove, I do it natural
As we get jazzy with classy shit
To make them hard-ass rappers wanna blast me
'Cause I exemplify a pimpified mackin'
Actin' like the shit nigga, mashin' rappers with the passion
When I get tempted, try flashin' lyrics, I snatch your spirits
Like a big disappointment
But this here shit will surprise ya, devise a plan
A pipsqueak shit's weak 'cause the size of the man
So if you wanna measure up, then press your luck (Yup)
'Cause when I'm in the cut, man, there ain't no catchin' up (Kev)
I bet you never heard a nigga with a vigorous flow
Figure this, bro, gettin' ate like a clitoris, no
I never coulda seen it
I rip a rapper's balls off to make him scream when it's convenient
Hear ye, hear ye, clearly we're the
Undisputed ones that you get mad at when you hear me
Papa's comp just barely even registered on the meter
'Cause we the niggas that they checkin' for
Me and you or you and him
Ruinin' them new-in men in when I'm cuein' him
In on the one (Yeah, two, three, four)
Y'all niggas know I got lyrics out the anal
And any move that you make could be fatal
The poet that shows it, and some of y'all niggas blow it
When you grab the mic and you can't recite (You're weak)
Yo, that gets me irate when you can't debate (Yup)
But wait, y'all niggas think that I'm your running mate? (Nah)
Nah, fuck that, 'cause when I get the baton, I'm gone
All around the track like a running maniac (Damn)
You're babblin', you're babblin', son, what the fuck? (Huh?)
Anybody can grab the gun and go buck
But can you grab the mic and kick ill shit?
Stun 'em with the verbs instead of using clips (Nah)
Check it, I flip styles by the dozen (Yeah)
I could even do things that you thought I was, but I wasn't
You MC's are slippin' into rigor mortis (Dead)
Give it up, please, and just abort this (Leave)
I got styles that are legendary, even in the clink (Yeah)
Poetic reality, what the fuck you think? (Thinkin')
'Cause I'm down with the D-E-L, so what the hell? Pep Love
I never come from the temple of simple rappers
Your rap's poor (Yeah), I'm on track, I lap yours
Collapse yours, elapsed forever
You're never gonna get better bitin', my friend
But I lend a hand helping, MC's yelping like puppies (Arf, arf, arf)
Their rhymes are supple, my rhymes are roughed up (Yeah)
Like a duffle bag, mags on my wheels squeal
Peel out toward your head while others bust lead
That's dead, I beat your head in
The resin in my pipe hits the buds in my chamber
My rhymes are never tamer
Perpetrators, I'ma hurt ya later after on the path of danger (Danger)
I got fangs, not bangs like a bitch
Which I use to puncture with punctuation and mutation
Racin' like my thoughts, bust shots that scatter
And my ladder lets me elevate over MC's that are hella fake (Hella)
My reaction to your rappin' is laughin'
Has beens are askin' to get they ass kicked 'cause you're plastic
I'm bringin' lyrical lacerations that you're tastin' (Taste)
Painful, I maim foes metaphorically
Historically used in hip-hop to make your neck pop
Noddin' oddly, now keep the modern style (Keep the modern style)
The undisputed ones that you get mad at
The undisputed ones that you get mad at
The undisputed ones that you get mad at
When you grab the mic and you can't recite
The undisputed ones that you get mad at
The undisputed ones that you get mad at
The undisputed ones that you get mad at
When you grab the mic and you can't recite
Grab the mic and you can't recite
Can't recite