Music Service


by Das Efx feat Mobb Deep
# Debut Chart
39 Feb '96 R&B
86 Feb '96 Hot 100


I iggity am what I is I comes to get biz so bust the jam I might not be the man but, yo I still proceed to slam, I cram To understand why these Rappers try to faze me They must be crazy messing With the Books and Drayzie Big up to Jersey and my people's out in el-a Well-a, hell-a, can never catch a swell-a Cause you can tell I gets biz like Markie No matter what the weather, son You never wanna spark me I'm kicking rhymes and Getting mines on the regular See me in the black Benz Just blowing up the cellular We high as shit, the sky is it You know the sewer style Yo, is fly as shit So grip, you're cheap and buried Cause you're never coming near it So fear it when you hear it, cheer it But don't compare it I still be schooling Fooling em when I'm speaking Kids be heaping, they love the way That we be freaking

Log on to hide ad.

My sewer style, it cause disaster So when I ask, you better answer Who's the microphone master (CHORUS) Miggity microphone master Super rhyme maker Miggity microphone master Super rhyme maker Miggity microphone master Super rhyme maker Miggity microphone master Super rhyme maker Well, yo, here's the humdinger I'm briggity bringing a new style of thing It's a rap singer with a fat flow So lo and behold I higgity hold his mic piece for ransom It's all about expanses, stocks of skunks Props and my pops get a mansion By the age of sixteen Had dreams of big screens Mad rubbers to keep my dick clean Chrome tools in rent And I only go downtown To buy jewels and tints Jaboll, Guess, old Gold and sess I check the mic, two, one And chew gum to ease the breath My style is wild Like the Cats of Villanova The heat on the street'll Keep my forties spilling over So the skunk and thai Keep me high when I'm smoking And I don't sleep Just take naps with one eye open See I believe the beaded Weed in me is feeding me The inspiration to riggity rock the nation From white folk to Haitian, Jamaican Burn MC's like degrees of Mason Because you're faking I'm on point, exclamation With the caper The flavor misbehavior from The super duper rhyme maker (CHORUS) I got to give a siggity shout to my mans My fans at the shows Friends, foes, stiggity stunts and hoes Drats, I'm frigging to ride the fat, oh, shit My crew is shake, rattle and roll thick Thicker than your blunt Cause, yo, I be's the Brooklyn trooper And I got more spunk than That punk from Punky Brewster Bust the lingo Ringo stiggity Starr bingo I run shit like Kunta Break bones like Mandingo I'm starstruck like starbuck The bad bro is mad though I'm all that small cat Like Tomko or Hasbo I have no figgity fear Yeah, it's me and mines Masters of the microphone Makers of the super rhymes Yo, well yo the shit sound clever I'm clown for whatever like nothing nice Big up to DJ Dice wrecking shop When he cut and slice These twenty MC's, please I never heard of some We need to murder some Like Colin Ferguson But now you heard us from the under So feel the thunder You best to come clean Like Ja Rule or Felix Unger I'm bugging like gristle See I suggest you, dismiss you My style's official and that's the issue I show the flow I go until it's time to leave Believe I'm packing More rhymes up my sleeve (CHORUS) to end


Site by: Todd

Log on to hide ad.