Cru, Ras Kass - The Ebonic Plague lyrics

Mix it up with the big YO
Comin' from the Laf Isle with fat funk flow
So yo how you feelin'? Tell
Me how you feelin'
Mad drug dealin', mad caps peelin'
I do my thing, drink a Budweiser
And I seen more bush busch than Dan Anheiser
Twist the caps of you fake John Gottis
Watch the pump shottie
Make you look like Kwame
Cru's about to drop the
Dirty understand the cipher
Got nothin' to lose so I'm-a do like a lifer
Niggas couldn't catch up
Ketchup with the mustard, disgusted
Drop the shit that gotcha brains dusted
Bust it
This is how it flow in the Bronx Zoo York
Beef up a step and style with a fall
Nothin' but the rough, understood?
Got me in double extra large


Bulletproof wit' the hood
Sittin' at the bar sippin' Becks
Plus I got the "two turntables
And a microphooooone" on deck
So who's next? Rugged Ras
Flossin' ice, and drop that soul on dat ass
The IBF got my rhymes ranked cuz they hittin'
Plus I'm all around like Scott Pippen
Here it is, east west, I mean China to Mexico
If you love the way it's
Goin' down let me know
Fuck it, Harlem knows the ledge
All my Bronx niggas know the wedge
Full-fledged
Uptown! Plus we got the Cali love
YOG, truly yours the Breakfast Club

Yo punk i was hot as 97 in '73
DOB my pedigree multiple felonies see
You spit phlegm I spit fumes
Across the ruins of kiosks
Hoverin' sand dunes a miniature man-nume
It's National Lampoon's Alien Vacation
I'm abductin' muthafuckin' rappers to
My inner space station (What?) For sheezy
When Ras Kass get to swervin' off 'gnac
Believe me i hit below the belt
Bustin' niggas balls like Riddick
Bowe versus Golota hell yeah I'm a rida
Ain't nuttin' sweetie
Cancer causin' like saccahrin
Action, intoxicated chinky-eyed black men
An' nowadays fools forget what
They actually named besides a loyal cadets
And priceless briquettes
Basically, I don't give a shit
How rich ya get
I'll have you in the car talkin' to yourself
Like Alanis Morisette with turets
(Oh weethat's right) I like
Sisters with vaginas so
(Can we get freaky toniiiiight)
Donald Trump wouldn't let you shine
His shoes my man
If you pissed off you dyin' with
Your dick in your hand
Plus when shit hit's the fan
I mean when Ras reach the crowd
And verse to verse
Switch my aura then rotate Earth
And fuck that servin' emcees and livin' bummy
I'm on some show me the money
And still educate the dummies
It's all about me for you and you for me
And playa if ya do for two we do for three
You think it's 'bout the cash
The cars and jew-el-ry
We livin' in the age of the ebonic plague

You see the words is meshin'
Through this lyrical aggression
Punks pop shit we Joe Pesc'em no question
Cru session, no time for second guessin'
Frontin' or fessin', we full court pressin'
Testin', any in our way learn a lesson
Forever in my Stetson, chrome plated Wesson
We ain't got no time for excuses and reasons
Bringin' nuttin' but butta in
All four seasons
Wanna blow my nose when I'm sneezin'
Wit' hundred dollar bills
Foes I'm squeezin', breezin'
Through your nearest town wit'
The frown expression
Those Bronx streets left a lastin' impression
Now think about this, imagine Cru rhymers
Like this world with no clock bein' timeless
Pure dope when it come to the oratorical
Stay on the low wit' a dime that's adorable
Got the rap shit covered like long johns
Big brother Ant taught me how to bear arms
LA to DC i gets my PC keeps me a fifth of BC
And we gon' drink to your
Pass peeps that flashed heat
Never no more, when I pull I blast he
Think you could deal? You crazier than Bjork
Belong up on Fantasy Isle with Mr rourke