Mike Zoot - Service Lyrics
Mike Zoot Lyrics
Service Lyrics
(Wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga
wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga
wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...
Wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga
rhyming kills a raw beat...
Wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...
Wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga
rhyming kills a raw beat...)
Very special...
(Wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...)
May I help you?
You need some new shit, I'm here to bless you
Got a style all my own, I'm nothing like the next crew
Good afternoon, now after me there will be none
No continue, no part two
For would be contenders easily saw through
Your value over there now how dare you
Attempt to even act or appear to
Service amplifiers with no fire
Quite frankly I'm offended at how you professed your perfection
But never meant to go on, now peoples let's address it
Exactly how many times you buy an album
That leaves you even somewhat pleased, far too seldom
Thank you, hey yo welcome, I'm just a real deal's fan
I keep no feelings inside, that's how I ride, you know who I am
Distinctly, Mike Zoot, in the no-name suit
And the boots, classic butter, ever item under 50-loot
My fashion statement is basement
Brooklyn night crew with the lyrics you get laced with
A tasteless displays, un-cool, I just can't see them used
Ain't got no soul in there, no technique, no flair
I sabatoge your whole savoir-faire, as we go there
Let's take you to the air, get this whole thing clear
Til one rhyme reappear
I be the winner by unanimous decision on the system
A sound boy killum
I'm the good scientist turned evil villain, just chillin'
If it sound good in the flow it'll start illing
With the service and the lyrics, yo...
(Wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga
rhyming kills a raw beat...)
Straight service, cause uh...
(Wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...
Wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga
rhyming kills a raw beat...
Wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...)
Like for example
The other night around twelve thirty, or done
It was me and son, playing Tekken part one on Sony Playstation
We doing the all night bid up in the crib
I whooping his ass with this Bruce Lee looking kid
I'm using patterns and codes, catching high-tech rep
On tournament mode, damn near broke son's neck
Then he hit the reset, but f*ck those, it was time for that underground
So I turned off the Sony and turned up the sounds
And now I don't recall the DJ, but none the less I'm checking it
Cause the last time I listened yo he played my favorite record
If the beats and rhymes is hectic god respect it
But nothing else can be accepted in my hip hop
Suddenly, my jaw dropped
From two bars of a bassline, then some more scratching
Followed by guitars some pianos, oooh that's banging
I had to say to myself, then I said out loud
Simply because it was the bomb I took the tape off pause
Quickly came the hi-hat on the snare, well mixed
Build up all in the background, 8-oh-8 kicks
All falling on place with the near perfect timing
Then before I know it some stupid nigga start rhyming
So I'm listening, trying to ignore the style he's stealing
Fake bob my head, I can't lie, I can't feel him
Must this happen every time, what's the dealin?
Appealing to the mass, rapper's ass all revealing can't last
So please repause that grass, it's f*ckin' up my vibes
And my tape deck, the speakers, as well as the cassette
My accent, on access so hear this well
Ain't no dis, ain't no beef, ain't no gas, ain't no gel
It's just the beat was kinda stink, but the rhymes I couldn't smell
For bigger nose, and I was diggin those too, til the rhyming on the song
Now get rid of those, you rap real wrong
So now I'm forced to turn you off and turn the Tekken back on
(Wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga
rhyming kills a raw beat...)
Straight service in cause uh...
(Wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...
Wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga
rhyming kills a raw beat...
Wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...)
Word up... Service.
(Wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...)
Mike Zoot, EZ Elpee, GuessWhyld (we need the Service)
My man Collossal in the house
Ninteenth, every time, every year
Straight service on first...
Eleven...
wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga
wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...
Wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga
rhyming kills a raw beat...
Wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...
Wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga
rhyming kills a raw beat...)
Very special...
(Wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...)
May I help you?
You need some new shit, I'm here to bless you
Got a style all my own, I'm nothing like the next crew
Good afternoon, now after me there will be none
No continue, no part two
For would be contenders easily saw through
Your value over there now how dare you
Attempt to even act or appear to
Service amplifiers with no fire
Quite frankly I'm offended at how you professed your perfection
But never meant to go on, now peoples let's address it
Exactly how many times you buy an album
That leaves you even somewhat pleased, far too seldom
Thank you, hey yo welcome, I'm just a real deal's fan
I keep no feelings inside, that's how I ride, you know who I am
Distinctly, Mike Zoot, in the no-name suit
And the boots, classic butter, ever item under 50-loot
My fashion statement is basement
Brooklyn night crew with the lyrics you get laced with
A tasteless displays, un-cool, I just can't see them used
Ain't got no soul in there, no technique, no flair
I sabatoge your whole savoir-faire, as we go there
Let's take you to the air, get this whole thing clear
Til one rhyme reappear
I be the winner by unanimous decision on the system
A sound boy killum
I'm the good scientist turned evil villain, just chillin'
If it sound good in the flow it'll start illing
With the service and the lyrics, yo...
(Wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga
rhyming kills a raw beat...)
Straight service, cause uh...
(Wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...
Wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga
rhyming kills a raw beat...
Wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...)
Like for example
The other night around twelve thirty, or done
It was me and son, playing Tekken part one on Sony Playstation
We doing the all night bid up in the crib
I whooping his ass with this Bruce Lee looking kid
I'm using patterns and codes, catching high-tech rep
On tournament mode, damn near broke son's neck
Then he hit the reset, but f*ck those, it was time for that underground
So I turned off the Sony and turned up the sounds
And now I don't recall the DJ, but none the less I'm checking it
Cause the last time I listened yo he played my favorite record
If the beats and rhymes is hectic god respect it
But nothing else can be accepted in my hip hop
Suddenly, my jaw dropped
From two bars of a bassline, then some more scratching
Followed by guitars some pianos, oooh that's banging
I had to say to myself, then I said out loud
Simply because it was the bomb I took the tape off pause
Quickly came the hi-hat on the snare, well mixed
Build up all in the background, 8-oh-8 kicks
All falling on place with the near perfect timing
Then before I know it some stupid nigga start rhyming
So I'm listening, trying to ignore the style he's stealing
Fake bob my head, I can't lie, I can't feel him
Must this happen every time, what's the dealin?
Appealing to the mass, rapper's ass all revealing can't last
So please repause that grass, it's f*ckin' up my vibes
And my tape deck, the speakers, as well as the cassette
My accent, on access so hear this well
Ain't no dis, ain't no beef, ain't no gas, ain't no gel
It's just the beat was kinda stink, but the rhymes I couldn't smell
For bigger nose, and I was diggin those too, til the rhyming on the song
Now get rid of those, you rap real wrong
So now I'm forced to turn you off and turn the Tekken back on
(Wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga
rhyming kills a raw beat...)
Straight service in cause uh...
(Wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...
Wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga
rhyming kills a raw beat...
Wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...)
Word up... Service.
(Wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...)
Mike Zoot, EZ Elpee, GuessWhyld (we need the Service)
My man Collossal in the house
Ninteenth, every time, every year
Straight service on first...
Eleven...
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