all kinds of beats till it's the heat that I know ya catching And I'm the one that started hip-hop in case ya asking I got knobs and faders in a mad
the hearts of mad crews Leavin' people lyin' dead in the street with no clues Soul like a mother got the funk on lock You can hear my sounds echo through the urban
see True vision of Hip Hop and the art of MC Great saints , sages and prophets of ancient times Did they not reveal the truth in mad holy rhymes Find
SV Urban organic, mic mechanic Super human MC powers help me fly around the planet Touch the Microphone device, whole countries get flattened Saving damsels
In my neighborhood... In my neighborhood... Mr. Trailblazer, with the mad flavor Look out ya'll the suburban ranger Suburban ranger danger danger Suburban ranger danger danger Suburban ranger danger danger Suburban ranger danger danger Don't get mad
Knowledge is wisdom, this goes back when I was twelve I loved doing right but I was trapped in hell Had mad ideas, sad eyes and tears Years of fears
calm Killa bees produce the honey, that fortify the platinum Plus the DJ claws fiend to scratch them Thus street team takes shots of criticism Promotional vehicles wiffin' wit mad
with lo-jack Molest your mind like Oprah Winfrey's behind when she was a small child Punchlines with more elasticity than Biggie's stretch marks Chino X sparks, mad urban
[Monoxide] I'm feeling sacrilegious and I'm so mad at the church I Can't believe they would inflict so much hurt why Could you put such a hole in my faith
I feel the tug of war, I fight the fight But I don't have the patience Or the stamina to last one night With color mad candy mouth, you Your reputation
Never call me out, bitches an' money, that's what we all about Through all the routes landed here, beach houses wit the chandalier Me an' my crew, mad
Never call me out, bitches and money, that's what we all about Through all the routes landed here, beach houses wit the chandaliere Me & my crew, mad
wake up, so we can get this cake up Sums we can break up And hold so much weight we take space up Stay truck Mad hoes stay fucked - say what? I'm in
the door And give the party people what they came here for Yo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central Ghetto hip-hop, non-stop fundamental Urban
off the wall What, I said dance, come on, come on So put your hands up Stop frontin and pop somethin Cornball niggaz stay frontin ain't got nothin Mad
I don't know, I just think that's hell exploitive You know, taking these metaphors and just butchering Icons in the urban community, I don't know It's
a fantasy world kid, you're killing me I start to work out, you start to merk out My sh*t be crazy raw, and out here, I got more clout I'm right in your streets, like I'm Urban