What a Feelin’
[Intro]
[?]
[Verse 1]
Kaboom! Guess who stepped in the room?
Lookin' like the creature from the Black Lagoon
There's gonna be a 187 real soon
If niggas up in here don't give me some elbow room
I'm runnin' with the Legion of Doom
Like a pack of wild wolves foamin' at the mouth on the full moon (Au)
I track range between space and time
And push wigs back like receding hair lines
That's the essence of the effervescence
As this melodic dynamic shit progresses
A mic murderer for hire
As I sit back and watch your little gimmick image backfire
Under the circumstances in any order of events
I be with sick niggas rollin' thick
Dissin the system got America mad at me
Like my name is O.J. Simpson
[Chorus]
My style is all that, and a big bag of chips with the dip
Fuck all that sensuous shit
The astronomical is comin' through like the flu bombin' you
My style is all that, and a big bag of chips with the dip
Fuck all that sensuous shit
The astronomical is comin' through like the flu bombin' you
[Verse 2]
Get off the d.k. you pitty pat bitch
Stepped into the party people wonderin' if I'm a start some shit
Prisoner of the media very often
'Cause people be blowin' little shit out of proportion (Aha)
False information and bogus arithmetic
Got everybody stuck on stupid, misinterpreting shit (Yeah)
How could I? Why should I damage my career? (Uh)
Over a nigga that'll probably bust me out of fear
Don't let your mouth get you into somethin' that your ass can't get out
When I see you I'll pull your dreads out your scalp
Caution: code red
I could kill you now, but instead, I'm a put this thought into your head (Right here)
I got the illest crew in the industry
We could go to war for 30 years like foreign countries
Yo, slow your roll
'Cause I don't really think you know with who you dealin'
[Chorus]
My style is all that, and a big bag of chips with the dip
Fuck all that sensuous shit
The astronomical is comin' through like the flu bombin' you
My style is all that, and a big bag of chips with the dip
Fuck all that sensuous shit
The astronomical is comin' through like the flu bombin' you
(Bombin')
[Verse 3]
Man fuck bitches, I'm gettin money
And laughin at these clown ass niggas like they funny
The grand imperial with milky material
I'll be the surprise in the bottom of your cereal
One thing I gotta say, my Squad never lost it
Unlike you corny MC's out there who Farrah Fawcett
Can't rhyme, runnin' your mouth all the time
While Def Squad sit back, enterprising perfect crimes (Yeah)
Got the Funk Lord squeezin' the life out of keyboards
While each MC tear the frame out of mic chords (Uh)
Yo I was in the bullpen with them niggas pullin' heists
Grown ass men crying like little mice, but I'mma bounce true indeed
Cause punk ass police only bagged me with two ounces of weed
Now I'm back on the streets in the city lights (Yeah)
And all I can think about is keepin it tight
[Chorus]
My style is all that, and a big bag of chips with the dip
Fuck all that sensuous shit
The astronomical is comin' through like the flu bombin' you
My style is all that, and a big bag of chips with the dip
Fuck all that sensuous shit
The astronomical is comin' through like the flu bombin' you
Slow your roll
This is [?]