[Flawless]
Primo Shit! Tony Touch. We got the livest lyricist in
NYC, The Hottest Producer in NYC, and the Hottest DJ in
NYC! Bout to get real ugly up in here.
[Touch Scratches various Live Wun Tracks]
[Scratches Continue throughout the entire track]
I come strapped for combat, Wit a craftsmen axe
I commit fraud on tax, Skillfully cover my tracks
Me and my doggz come hard, Rough wolf packs
Credit maxed, Ya'll chumps be like DON'T DO THAT
But when I spat on your track, You sold out when you hit racks
The album was wack, At 125 you proved that
But since I was on that, Mad headz done bought that
The track was like a bad battle, You tried but you ain't fought back
My verse was played on the mixed-tapes,
They ain't put you on, You was a waste of space
I see how you eatin' off that single hit
It was your LP, But you ain't wrote the shit
Shoulda called that track changed up, Cuz when I finished up
You stepped up and layed nut
I've had rhymes on the brain since the sixth grade
While ya'lll was bringin' the pain, I was getting' paid
Makin' mixed-tapes to promote my name
Writin' in rhyme books to elevate my game
Kept my head in books increasin' vocabulary
And the first shit I laid down left em jus a lil' bit worried
Since then, A rush to help the game evolve
I mastered all the problems ya'll still tryna solve
On the 1 and 2's, My skills ain't quite like GQ
But I guarantee I'ma chirp a 12 better than you
You still think sharp sounds come from fast scratches
My Game I reworked like Dialated, And sewed up all the patches
I was the first one to rap about gasoline and matches
Always had thick game, I mean I kept game thick
Ya'll party on weekends while I work on my mix
The thought of college scares me, I can't take shit with me
Wit out practice it's guaranteed a strong game will turn flimsy
Plus tables get dusty, And fingaz get rusty
And without rap Piss me off, I get a lil' bit touchy
Rap and mathematics what I enjoy the most
I likes east and west coast, Division and exponents
I eat burgers and rib roast, Fried Eggs and Rye Toast
Too proud to beg like TLC, But I sure as hell Boast
Every creation I concoct, Is repeatably knocked
Everyone always got ideas, For sale in tiendas and shops
Some say I should stop, Some want me to still drop
Regardless of public opinion, I'm stayin' on top
If you wanna sample, Go buy a tape
Ain't getting' shit free from me, I'm bout to win the whole race
[Flawless]
Thas that true hip hop! Jus straight rap! No hook.
We ain't even gotta curse. We jus speak the real, the truth!
Dodger did it again New York...[Echoes and Fades]
Live Wunz - Show And Prove Part 2 Lyrics
Live Wunz - Show And Prove Part 2 Lyrics
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
[Flawless]
Primo Shit! Tony Touch. We got the livest lyricist in
NYC, The Hottest Producer in NYC, and the Hottest DJ in
NYC! Bout to get real ugly up in here.
[Touch Scratches various Live Wun Tracks]
[Scratches Continue throughout the entire track]
I come strapped for combat, Wit a craftsmen axe
I commit fraud on tax, Skillfully cover my tracks
Me and my doggz come hard, Rough wolf packs
Credit maxed, Ya'll chumps be like DON'T DO THAT
But when I spat on your track, You sold out when you hit racks
The album was wack, At 125 you proved that
But since I was on that, Mad headz done bought that
The track was like a bad battle, You tried but you ain't fought back
My verse was played on the mixed-tapes,
They ain't put you on, You was a waste of space
I see how you eatin' off that single hit
It was your LP, But you ain't wrote the shit
Shoulda called that track changed up, Cuz when I finished up
You stepped up and layed nut
I've had rhymes on the brain since the sixth grade
While ya'lll was bringin' the pain, I was getting' paid
Makin' mixed-tapes to promote my name
Writin' in rhyme books to elevate my game
Kept my head in books increasin' vocabulary
And the first shit I laid down left em jus a lil' bit worried
Since then, A rush to help the game evolve
I mastered all the problems ya'll still tryna solve
On the 1 and 2's, My skills ain't quite like GQ
But I guarantee I'ma chirp a 12 better than you
You still think sharp sounds come from fast scratches
My Game I reworked like Dialated, And sewed up all the patches
I was the first one to rap about gasoline and matches
Always had thick game, I mean I kept game thick
Ya'll party on weekends while I work on my mix
The thought of college scares me, I can't take shit with me
Wit out practice it's guaranteed a strong game will turn flimsy
Plus tables get dusty, And fingaz get rusty
And without rap Piss me off, I get a lil' bit touchy
Rap and mathematics what I enjoy the most
I likes east and west coast, Division and exponents
I eat burgers and rib roast, Fried Eggs and Rye Toast
Too proud to beg like TLC, But I sure as hell Boast
Every creation I concoct, Is repeatably knocked
Everyone always got ideas, For sale in tiendas and shops
Some say I should stop, Some want me to still drop
Regardless of public opinion, I'm stayin' on top
If you wanna sample, Go buy a tape
Ain't getting' shit free from me, I'm bout to win the whole race
[Flawless]
Thas that true hip hop! Jus straight rap! No hook.
We ain't even gotta curse. We jus speak the real, the truth!
Dodger did it again New York...[Echoes and Fades]
Primo Shit! Tony Touch. We got the livest lyricist in
NYC, The Hottest Producer in NYC, and the Hottest DJ in
NYC! Bout to get real ugly up in here.
[Touch Scratches various Live Wun Tracks]
[Scratches Continue throughout the entire track]
I come strapped for combat, Wit a craftsmen axe
I commit fraud on tax, Skillfully cover my tracks
Me and my doggz come hard, Rough wolf packs
Credit maxed, Ya'll chumps be like DON'T DO THAT
But when I spat on your track, You sold out when you hit racks
The album was wack, At 125 you proved that
But since I was on that, Mad headz done bought that
The track was like a bad battle, You tried but you ain't fought back
My verse was played on the mixed-tapes,
They ain't put you on, You was a waste of space
I see how you eatin' off that single hit
It was your LP, But you ain't wrote the shit
Shoulda called that track changed up, Cuz when I finished up
You stepped up and layed nut
I've had rhymes on the brain since the sixth grade
While ya'lll was bringin' the pain, I was getting' paid
Makin' mixed-tapes to promote my name
Writin' in rhyme books to elevate my game
Kept my head in books increasin' vocabulary
And the first shit I laid down left em jus a lil' bit worried
Since then, A rush to help the game evolve
I mastered all the problems ya'll still tryna solve
On the 1 and 2's, My skills ain't quite like GQ
But I guarantee I'ma chirp a 12 better than you
You still think sharp sounds come from fast scratches
My Game I reworked like Dialated, And sewed up all the patches
I was the first one to rap about gasoline and matches
Always had thick game, I mean I kept game thick
Ya'll party on weekends while I work on my mix
The thought of college scares me, I can't take shit with me
Wit out practice it's guaranteed a strong game will turn flimsy
Plus tables get dusty, And fingaz get rusty
And without rap Piss me off, I get a lil' bit touchy
Rap and mathematics what I enjoy the most
I likes east and west coast, Division and exponents
I eat burgers and rib roast, Fried Eggs and Rye Toast
Too proud to beg like TLC, But I sure as hell Boast
Every creation I concoct, Is repeatably knocked
Everyone always got ideas, For sale in tiendas and shops
Some say I should stop, Some want me to still drop
Regardless of public opinion, I'm stayin' on top
If you wanna sample, Go buy a tape
Ain't getting' shit free from me, I'm bout to win the whole race
[Flawless]
Thas that true hip hop! Jus straight rap! No hook.
We ain't even gotta curse. We jus speak the real, the truth!
Dodger did it again New York...[Echoes and Fades]