Step In The Arena 2 (I'm Sayin')
Once you step in the arena, cheater
You gone see what the fuck, listen up
A whole lot of things on the minds of most of my mens
But they shy, so may I say things that currently
Common thugs wondering
Like if I made a hot beat, could I fuck Lil' Kim?
Why did Ron Artest flip on the fans
But ain't do shit to Ben Wallace? Knowledge
Do the one son, who is son?
Ay yo, Guru, Peace, Wop, stop playing
There's a cock sucker, impostor, rocking your name
It's kind of lame, it's kind of strange
When they know Gang Starr, won't go back far
Rap's throwback, splat, hold that dawg
Engineer that ass back to ass cap dawg
So you could fine-tune your membership card
Once you step in the arena, cheater
You gone see what the fuck, listen up
Got a whole lot of things on my mind I want to spit
I ain't shy, so may I
Does this faggot here, have any fucking idea
How many mics I've touched in my illustrious career
Got mass appeal to get a rep, I grab the steel
Code of the street and now they have to kneel
Before the bling era, NYC had it locked
Have we forgot, I'll blow your spot
I'm from the days of when Big and Pac used to be tight
Known to get loose with a mic, nigga, I'm used to the fight
Listen, I ain't your average meat-rapper
I'm well acquainted with beats so of course we keep clappers
Fuck the politics and who's supposed to be nice?
I represent what a MC's supposed to be like
Hennessey was a popular drink and it still is
My name is Wop, considered one of the illest
Mix tape inovador, spit plus kill a fader
Never did a bid, but the kid know how to spit a razor
Born in east LA, but the Bronx raised me up
What you want?
Motherfucker we could get it crunk, cracking or popping
This is Wop and what, the hole locked bitch
I could see clearly now, nigga the rain is gone
Solar supplying tracks we getting famous on
Bodies got laid out once the bangers rung
Niggaz still want to play, knowing the game is done
One over, we bring the slaughter like fluff waters
Boy, it's deadly you not ready
I put in work like a factory have you losing your faculties
You heard me, you not worthy
You gone see what the fuck, listen up
A whole lot of things on the minds of most of my mens
But they shy, so may I say things that currently
Common thugs wondering
Like if I made a hot beat, could I fuck Lil' Kim?
Why did Ron Artest flip on the fans
But ain't do shit to Ben Wallace? Knowledge
Do the one son, who is son?
Ay yo, Guru, Peace, Wop, stop playing
There's a cock sucker, impostor, rocking your name
It's kind of lame, it's kind of strange
When they know Gang Starr, won't go back far
Rap's throwback, splat, hold that dawg
Engineer that ass back to ass cap dawg
So you could fine-tune your membership card
Once you step in the arena, cheater
You gone see what the fuck, listen up
Got a whole lot of things on my mind I want to spit
I ain't shy, so may I
Does this faggot here, have any fucking idea
How many mics I've touched in my illustrious career
Got mass appeal to get a rep, I grab the steel
Code of the street and now they have to kneel
Before the bling era, NYC had it locked
Have we forgot, I'll blow your spot
I'm from the days of when Big and Pac used to be tight
Known to get loose with a mic, nigga, I'm used to the fight
Listen, I ain't your average meat-rapper
I'm well acquainted with beats so of course we keep clappers
Fuck the politics and who's supposed to be nice?
I represent what a MC's supposed to be like
Hennessey was a popular drink and it still is
My name is Wop, considered one of the illest
Mix tape inovador, spit plus kill a fader
Never did a bid, but the kid know how to spit a razor
Born in east LA, but the Bronx raised me up
What you want?
Motherfucker we could get it crunk, cracking or popping
This is Wop and what, the hole locked bitch
I could see clearly now, nigga the rain is gone
Solar supplying tracks we getting famous on
Bodies got laid out once the bangers rung
Niggaz still want to play, knowing the game is done
One over, we bring the slaughter like fluff waters
Boy, it's deadly you not ready
I put in work like a factory have you losing your faculties
You heard me, you not worthy
Credits
Writer(s): D. Styles, R. Gonzalez, Keith Edward Elam
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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