Laced Cheeba

Your kung-fu is good, your magic is good
That is why he waited, so my power would dwindle
My power has diminish then he come to kill me
Yes but I know your kung-fu is still very good
If you practice again, no one could possibly be your match
Oh, the ancient weapon

Yeah, fierce, I travel across seas on glaciers
Four shoguns that got fucked by geishas
Still gracious, still able to twist out darts
Just grew tougher skin from swimmin' with them sharks

Broken ankle, fuckin' with them wallabee clarks
Got them bitches still screamin' my name, "What up, Starks?"
I'm a bone crusher, ox will split your face like a Dutch master
No more minks, its polar bears from Alaska

With shark skin, Air Maxes and igloos of ice
Rocks clumped up like overcooked rice
I'm nice, you're the reason why the game went soft
Bland niggas, I come through and season your broth

Like Mr Dash, I blast, I'm a menace like Dennis
Young Coles and I'm back from a six month sentence
Rehabilitated, back in the yard, flyin' heads with barbwires
Stay tyin' niggas to beds

Can you kill me?
If I didn't think so, I would not be here waitin' for you now
Right, let me see what you got
Forget the tricks, let's see your kung-fu

Yo, everybody get paid, everybody get laid
All these bitches dirty, everybody got AIDS
Everybody get played, everybody get sprayed
Everybody do what I say, everybody my maid

P, crack sellin', black felon
Gat clap, rat-a-tat-tat, tap melons
Son thugs, one gun, one slug
Shot caller, like "Yo, let me speak to Young Muggs"

Listen, it's Mandela, pa
I grab wack MC's, I smack 'em hella hard
I kill niggas with the birdy blick banger
My Wu-Tang niggas call me the 36th Chamber

Lyrical miracle, spit with you rap dudes
Get smacked off the skateboard for not payin' rap dues
P, call me the gate keeper
Break haters off your face smokin' laced cheeba

Ha-ha-ha-ha, he's mad, listen to me
You've lost your concentration, your magic is gone
That's why it doesn't work,
You better use your real kung-fu

Yeah, aiyo, she want a thug, not the loyal type
A golden boy to promote it right
Sort of like a ill De La Hoya fight
I'm eatin' good, enjoyin' life
Flawless ice, quick to bag a baller's wife
With no strings attached, cordless mics

Toilet white, S5 fifty with the wrong pipes
Peelin' off like snake skin, watch the cobra bite
Overnight success story, go and check for me
You rap poorly, that's why your cassette's corny

Your money too short for long convo
You in the game, hurtin', tryin' to play Rajon Rondo
Millionaire swag, peep your boys ensemble
Jewels heavy, Prince Akeem comin' to America

Etcetera, whoever sent the kite, kill the messenger
Because I think like the man behind the register
Quick to pull a toaster out, Starks choke 'em out
We over here, countin' bread, what y'all loaf about?

You finished already? Get up and fight
Hey, let him get some strength
Let him go 'til he outlive me
Let's say he killed my cult, let's go



Credits
Writer(s): Dennis Coles, Sean Price, Borahm Lee, Joshua Werner, Gintas Janusonis, Wes Mingus, Arnold Mischkulnig, Noah Rubin, Jeryl Grant
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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