I gotta kick mo' shit, let me put my fuckin boots on [CHORUS: MC Breed] Seven years, seven years Seven years, seven years Of sweat and tears And what? (Seven
a lot of yall runnin round ain?t none of Yall this supa dupa fly-supe dupa as I-fly across the Sky-cut you like pie-me me and MC Lyte-cuz you wack Straight
Припев за припевом, куплет за куплетом… Хип-хоп раскачивает всю планету. Не важно, что нас кто-то где-то не слышит, Эта музыка жива, пока мы дышим. Пока
home Bad Boys Heh, I'm 'bout to do Santa Dimengo on a horse named Bingo A fugitive lookin' for puff switchin' my lingo Stayin' at a hotel called the Pink Flamingo Callin' up MC
re down what set ya claimin'?? He drew the Glock, yo my set's aimin' Dumb motherfucker try to roll on me Please I'm protected by a thousand MC's And hoodlums
ace Yeah, nigga~! [Chorus] [Styles P:] Burn an MC like an arsonist Tell him I'm the hardest in the game when he market it Seven-six-oh, L.I. and it
time (it's Blo Pop time) It's Blo Pop time (it's Blo Pop time) In the mix, the dimension, J.B., and Chico It's seven, not six, my shirt extra-large
(Robyn) I've gone around the world and the seven seas I'm cashin' six-figure checks in all currencies It's like when I be tearin' it up in Paris Motherfuckers
grief I, rat-a-tat-tat it like one-two one-two Cock my shit back and let off on your whole crew I'm Brick City baby, twenty-four seven A project nigga
Or is it further up? Plus my style murder ducks So what the fuck, you got the mic turned up fo'? When I Chief Rock underground MC's drop like sheet rock
watt through your box I come hotter than Treach, you bet about callin the cops Because (this type of funk you don't hear on the regular) Rock six seven
roll the hashes in the pocket with the 9, Roll up the whole dime as my seats recline (Nigga) I want a presidential Roley (So?) so I crush MC's to guacamole
song, come on, we all spit it Get on with it, with all my niggas screamin', 'We did it' Love and war, thugs and whores Nickel-plated nines, three-pound-sevens
MC rhymin? Uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh MC, MC, ARYC Uhh, uh MC rhymin?, chart climbin? with the baguettes, Roley shinin? We smokin? the best trees, I bet some
Pack four pieces like a kit kat. heh, get that? Cop cris' by the six-pack, range rov? ' dot six that Benz coupe, drop six that Buggy eye seven come out
to my niggaz from get low the RBL my nigga cool nut 11/5 Bump this in yo seven ride get a show and bring you about seven die Mutha fuckaz startin' to
yolks at windows To wind up the old folks Started learning about the birds and the bees So there's birds from my class On their knees behind trees My favorite MC
'm #1 People still takin' rappin' for a joke A passing hope, or a phase with the rope Sometime I choke and try to believe When I get challenged by a million MC
