Original Flavor, JAY-Z - Many Styles lyrics
[Original Flavor, JAY-Z - Many Styles lyrics]
And you don't stop (right)
You got Original Flavour (right)
We bout to blow it up (right)
I got a couple of friends with me
Many styles, many styles (You know we got)
Many styles, many styles (You know we got)
Many styles, many styles (You know we got)
Many styles, many styles (You know we got)
16 bars of death, here comes a bad Mother F
Don't say another (shh) don't take another
Mic check one, One, checky two
What's this? The old switcharoo, huh!
These nigga's are nice, these
Nigga's are nice, so nice
I had to say it twice, twiggy twice
Better jet, nothing can stop the collision
I seen it first with my bionic vision
In 93 I'm rough rugged and real
Just look at the grill
Run for the hills this is not a drill
Moving, moving on, out of control
Rap's in my soul brr, I feel cold
Yo I break it down
I break the sound down to the underground
Now how that sound? Yo, I'm totally awesome
Somebody get me off them
Too late, we lost him
Whenever you hear the footsteps, yo
Hit before you dash ready set
No, don't wait, go just split
Better make a nigga quickety
Quick quick quick
So you know the tick tick time when
I rhyme I rip to bit's
I'm thick dropping these lyrics like bricks
Before I get ghost hurry up catch a flick
Clink
Straight up and down like I'm loving your dip
My target: pick, pick, pick
Never miss when I shoot it's swift
Flip like Mary Lou
Riff, witnesses seen from carry too
So follow the fever pitch, which, way
Is which
Before you figured it out I done switch
Ain't that a bitch? The way it bumps
Ugh you got an itch
Creep the the mic and throw it in a ditch
It's no more good when me and
My boys from the hood
Get a hoe, better go go while you could bitch
And it don't stop
Check out the mega mic check from hell
Invite the devil from the lower level
Lucifer told me to grab the mic
And light up your fucking crew
What can you do? Go get your crew
Do you want (What)
Do you want (What)
Shit, now you nigga's know my damn status
Ain't no shame in my game
I claims to be baddest
With my spiritual lyrical dramatical
Ramificational swift rhythm
But if you riff I be slamming
Your vision to the brick wall
As soon as you call your crew, well
Tell you what I'm gonna do check it out
Right, you know that the kid can flow
I'm light in the ass but still a
Heavy handed hitter like Riddick Bowe
I swings with the eyes of the tiger
Party reviver
Bitch's are killed by my saliva
Cause my shit is liver
Spitted it out, spitted it at em
In and out my cruzanium
It's Freshco, spraying em
I'm super like shazam allergic, to wack shit
I'm ripping the mic in a way that can't be
Touched or debated and I'm
Wetting the panties
Look at a man who's wrecking his hands
Damn, she's bout to get some air fresh
Original, flavorful, affectional
Be some old sick noise shit ballistical
Grab on my nuts, blow
Oh my god, yo he's dope show
My style is hotter than lying on fire naked
Styles for any many plenty girls in frenzy
You couldn't take me out if I came in a Benzy
Box i rented it out
Many fucking stidyles
You got Original Flavour (right)
We bout to blow it up (right)
I got a couple of friends with me
Many styles, many styles (You know we got)
Many styles, many styles (You know we got)
Many styles, many styles (You know we got)
Many styles, many styles (You know we got)
16 bars of death, here comes a bad Mother F
Don't say another (shh) don't take another
Mic check one, One, checky two
What's this? The old switcharoo, huh!
These nigga's are nice, these
Nigga's are nice, so nice
I had to say it twice, twiggy twice
Better jet, nothing can stop the collision
I seen it first with my bionic vision
In 93 I'm rough rugged and real
Just look at the grill
Run for the hills this is not a drill
Moving, moving on, out of control
Rap's in my soul brr, I feel cold
Yo I break it down
I break the sound down to the underground
Now how that sound? Yo, I'm totally awesome
Somebody get me off them
Too late, we lost him
Whenever you hear the footsteps, yo
Hit before you dash ready set
No, don't wait, go just split
Better make a nigga quickety
Quick quick quick
So you know the tick tick time when
I rhyme I rip to bit's
I'm thick dropping these lyrics like bricks
Before I get ghost hurry up catch a flick
Clink
Straight up and down like I'm loving your dip
My target: pick, pick, pick
Never miss when I shoot it's swift
Flip like Mary Lou
Riff, witnesses seen from carry too
So follow the fever pitch, which, way
Is which
Before you figured it out I done switch
Ain't that a bitch? The way it bumps
Ugh you got an itch
Creep the the mic and throw it in a ditch
It's no more good when me and
My boys from the hood
Get a hoe, better go go while you could bitch
And it don't stop
Check out the mega mic check from hell
Invite the devil from the lower level
Lucifer told me to grab the mic
And light up your fucking crew
What can you do? Go get your crew
Do you want (What)
Do you want (What)
Shit, now you nigga's know my damn status
Ain't no shame in my game
I claims to be baddest
With my spiritual lyrical dramatical
Ramificational swift rhythm
But if you riff I be slamming
Your vision to the brick wall
As soon as you call your crew, well
Tell you what I'm gonna do check it out
Right, you know that the kid can flow
I'm light in the ass but still a
Heavy handed hitter like Riddick Bowe
I swings with the eyes of the tiger
Party reviver
Bitch's are killed by my saliva
Cause my shit is liver
Spitted it out, spitted it at em
In and out my cruzanium
It's Freshco, spraying em
I'm super like shazam allergic, to wack shit
I'm ripping the mic in a way that can't be
Touched or debated and I'm
Wetting the panties
Look at a man who's wrecking his hands
Damn, she's bout to get some air fresh
Original, flavorful, affectional
Be some old sick noise shit ballistical
Grab on my nuts, blow
Oh my god, yo he's dope show
My style is hotter than lying on fire naked
Styles for any many plenty girls in frenzy
You couldn't take me out if I came in a Benzy
Box i rented it out
Many fucking stidyles