Cuban Link, Common, The Beatnuts - Slam Pit lyrics

"Yo it's, yo B"
"Nah, yo, it'si don't know this nigga B"
"Why yo yo, put that down B
I don't know you son!
I don't know you son! hold up hold up!"

"I Links with the Cuban"
"I'm hard to kill, for real nigga
Guard your grill"

Yo flipmode is how this nigga roll
Finger on the trigger low
Quick to lick a shot for
That bigger pot of gold
Lock and load, my heavy metal rock and rolls
If you gotta go, you gotta go
That's part of the show
My heart is cold like Antarctica
Nailin niggas like carpenters
Stalkin the hardest squadrons
Spark them from New York to Arkansas
Watchin the projects how I got my logic
Economics is pickin pockets then
We split the profit
The only shit I pop is when my Glock spit
Watch for the cops since
We spark the chocolate
Cuz the blocks are hotter
Than the fuckin tropics
In topless bars, college girls with no bras
My whole squad got blowjobs
Smokin Godfather cigars
Live large like Scarface
Parlay in a far place no car chasin
She's watchin all the stars in space
Safe in sound in my
Playground with my trey-pound
Got eighty rounds just in case
Clowns wanna play around
I lay it down for them non-believers
Them non-achievein niggas that
Wanna be leaders but can never beat us
Ya'll better greet us if you ever see us
TS, Beatnuts, knuckle up but
Grab your mothafuckin heaters, word up

"Slammin MC's on cement"
"The Beats and Nuts"
"Got you froze like gunpoint"
"It's the hard little pistol packin"

It's the control freak
Leave you wit a hole in your cheek
Worst attitude in rap, Ju stay on the streets
I gotta eat
The only thing I'm playin is keeps
You beats cost a lot of money
But they sound real cheap
You sound weak, anemic like you get no sleep
Fuckin with me, you outta your mind
Get outta your jeep!
Know I'm gonna beat you till the police come
And tell niggas who the fuck
I got that Rollie from

Jump in the Pit beatnuts fuckin up shit
Ju hold my gun and the clip
As I smoke one and spit ammo over the piano
For a man's show, you don't understand bro!
You do, don't make me laugh at your ass
Cuz you don't even know the
HALF of the HALF! When I crash on the scene
You know it's me and a bunch
Of crazy cats outta Queens
So hide your shine
Hold your bitch and stop smiling
Beatnuts will never stop wildin
Pit Fighting and rockwilding!

"Common Sense gonna tell ya!"

Picture a king
Wit heater, holy book, and big rings
Real niggas doin big things
Interpreting dreams off of Jim Beam
Ain't shit Sweet but Sixteens
My gods got the block sewn to the inseem
I'm on the other side tryin to get green
So I fast at grass and ass at least a day
War with self I battle the Middle Eastern way
Bring heat like the months
That's east of May
Casted in the role and saw a new
School nigga that knows the old
G memory I hold the scroll, my flow is a Road
Less Travelled
You rock but been through less gravel
My mystique suggest battle, and what have you
Rip a nigga from New York to west coast
Chicago don't give a fuck where he from
He'll get beat like a drum
Till this rap goes numb
Seekin the hot producer for circu lation
I strangled his string music
And suffocate his drum
Wanted to be a star until I
Seen I was the sun got my weight up like Pun
Improvise to get ass, emphasize to get past
Fuck a mic check, I bring my flow in cash

"Slammin MC's on cement"