Redman, Keith Murray, Jamal - Da Ill Out lyrics
[Redman, Keith Murray, Jamal - Da Ill Out lyrics]
Muddy Waters don't get it twisted, nigga
Ayo, everybody in this motherfucker
Will get touched fuck such and such
I roll tight like handcuffs
Rock that ass to sleep
With discrete techniques i beez that
Freak of the Week like I made Knee Deep
Hold up! Rotate around the solar
Madder than Cobra composure never sleeps
My stream pumps Folgers
I'm sautéein' MC's with fried rice
Up in the wok
Without the MSG and chopped celery
See, I made it, my flavor situated
From the nickel plated mic that's hot
To leave your brain inflated
Plus, I'm thick like Quakers on papers
Bodacious MC's get turned to lower cases
Lettering, and the medicine
That I'm swallowin
Get you hollerin', like Marvin Gaye
When his father shot him in the chest
I roll with two stacks of TECs
And mad niggas in sets that'll
Roll up in your rest, uHH!
Mister Fantastic's crafted off that 50
Sack of ass kick
When I'm blasted, my mathematics get drastic
That you can't see with bifocals
Watchin MC's go up and
Down like stock brokers
I leave your brains on tilt
With ill skills that's milk
That's rougher than jeans
That Gloria Vanderbilt
I'm poppin mad shit, plus I can back it
Your man'll be like "Yo
Get that dust off yo' jacket"
It ain't a test or quiz that my Squad can win
Those who know the biz, know we rap kids
Get biz you'll digest
Multiple stab wounds to the chest
Then I copycat, kill the rest
With no method to my madness
Bless the apparatus with the baddest
Determined to be the last man
Standing on the planet you'll get attached
Like a blood sucking leech
When you fall into my rhythm of speech
Your ears get embraced with a
Touch of the bass head get wrapped up
Neck get thrown in a neck brace
Rough rhyme mechanical, lyrical at it who?
Will ironically chronically murder you
And your crew my objective, the way I live
Is kinda primitive
See I get to the bottom of the problem
And make shit give
Step in the jam, hooded and high
Plastered the master
Cast to the masses, grabs the mic
Ten dollar rappers is what LOD goes after
(Tweek, Tweek)
To my Squad, there's no matches, we mashes
Do photo flashes in all flavor S-classes
Bomb attack on wax
Lyrical mini Mac to your back
Tie you up, throw you in the Ac'
A public figure
Who walks around with a jaded jigger
'Cause, I gives a fuck about another nigga
Word up
Muddy Waters
Yo this is the way that my intro should go
Drunk slow funk flow for Reggie Noble
Fuck with me doe, Mally G doe it's not logic
Playing that big shit get
Broke down microscopic
Bring it back keep the track ringing
With the bassline
It's major when you savor my flavor
Can you taste mine face the nine I lace your
Spine with short fat pace around and round
Avoiding the time to put it down
Now's the time here, yeah
(Clown where, pick a spot
Neutral grounds or not, we give a fuck
Lick a shot)
Gangsta, so called killin', cap peelin'
Playalistic
I mean, is all that shit realistic?
Play your cards, God
Black keep your hand held tight
Nightfall might call your life, shit is trife
On these evil streets after dark
Niggas gettin sparked left and
Outlined in chalk
New day, seriously, this whole shit's twisted
(as a man)
It's me bombin' on these niggas shitlisted
Mally G
Open your eyes to see, recognize who be a G
Hopin' to rise in thee, industry with E
The villain's at it 'cause I had it
(Word up, yeah)
Killin' my psychosomatic pattern rhythmatic
(yeah)
Y'all know, uhh, yeah
Muddy Waters, we out for '97 word up, peace