Pete Rock, GZA, RZA - Head Rush (More Base) lyrics
Pete Rock [Peter Phillips] The Bronx, NY, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Pete Rock, GZA, RZA - Head Rush More Base lyrics]
Yo before the Greeks and the creeks
It's a old Pete Rock classic, nigga yo
Before the Greeks and the creeks
Before you could stand
Before your hands from your feet
From a band or a beat
We would stand on the street
With our hand on our heat
Twelve grams, twelve feet away
Balled up in a sheet
Of Reynold's wrap, one smack
Leaves your dentals back
Your voice get quiet like the
Voice in the instrumental track
Slick from the lip lisp, son, sip the citrus
My voice unfolds
With the soul of The Whispers
On the block, we rock loud like The Pistols
Up in the crib
My wiz drinkin' a Harvey's Bristol
Natural flavor, yours be artificial
I blow holes in skin
Like big nose through snotty tissue
They go berserk
When the dollar dollar bill is on
The thrill is gone upgrade to the silicone
That's worth the four billion
Eight hundred milli-on
It's not official until I smack the W
Silly on from the valleys of Ohio
To the sands of Cairo
Still hit like the whirlwind kick of Ryu
Zig-Zag-Zig Allah
Still puzzled like the jigsaw
You renege, you get jigged, pa
Pete Rock exclusive
We bogard the road
Like trucks on the turnpike
Smoke by the load
Just to see what it burns like
Architectural design, intellectual rhyme
The bishop strike, movin' on a diagonal line
The rook's trapped
Scholars they want the books back
The piece, they turn us off
The moment they look back
The castling position
Made weak by a wing pawn
Knights lose armor from the
Pressure we bring on
They fired all these shots in
The rhymes with mad flares
Kept a cramped game
Many posted on bad squares
The king's the kick, the queen's the snare
The bass are minor pieces that move in a pair
Quick to break through
An unparalleled opponent
I do it on the regular, at any given moment
Check the venue
Those who make the saga continue
Before you check the credit's
The swords is all in you
It's real it's real it's real it's real
It's a old Pete Rock classic, nigga yo
Before the Greeks and the creeks
Before you could stand
Before your hands from your feet
From a band or a beat
We would stand on the street
With our hand on our heat
Twelve grams, twelve feet away
Balled up in a sheet
Of Reynold's wrap, one smack
Leaves your dentals back
Your voice get quiet like the
Voice in the instrumental track
Slick from the lip lisp, son, sip the citrus
My voice unfolds
With the soul of The Whispers
On the block, we rock loud like The Pistols
Up in the crib
My wiz drinkin' a Harvey's Bristol
Natural flavor, yours be artificial
I blow holes in skin
Like big nose through snotty tissue
They go berserk
When the dollar dollar bill is on
The thrill is gone upgrade to the silicone
That's worth the four billion
Eight hundred milli-on
It's not official until I smack the W
Silly on from the valleys of Ohio
To the sands of Cairo
Still hit like the whirlwind kick of Ryu
Zig-Zag-Zig Allah
Still puzzled like the jigsaw
You renege, you get jigged, pa
Pete Rock exclusive
We bogard the road
Like trucks on the turnpike
Smoke by the load
Just to see what it burns like
Architectural design, intellectual rhyme
The bishop strike, movin' on a diagonal line
The rook's trapped
Scholars they want the books back
The piece, they turn us off
The moment they look back
The castling position
Made weak by a wing pawn
Knights lose armor from the
Pressure we bring on
They fired all these shots in
The rhymes with mad flares
Kept a cramped game
Many posted on bad squares
The king's the kick, the queen's the snare
The bass are minor pieces that move in a pair
Quick to break through
An unparalleled opponent
I do it on the regular, at any given moment
Check the venue
Those who make the saga continue
Before you check the credit's
The swords is all in you
It's real it's real it's real it's real