I Gotta (Get Down)

I take rap to the pinnacle with my cynical interview
Forensics magnify the rhymes, none are identical
To the track when it go boom boom bap
Bring the Indian rain rap
You'll honor the last left, brain rhymer
My presence on the mic is water on the rocks in a sauna
An uninhabited world of greenery
And plus my psychic ability enables me to see
That you're not what you seem to be
When I drop one watch one land where your man's standin'
Might just ram my hand with your teeth
But I'm righteous carnivorous
I give you a spot to start at
Your niggas be like, "You saw that?!"
Subconscious brain pain, call it a nightmare
Now that I got you seein' the light, STARE
Yeah, it's aimin' dead into your retina
Not to threaten' ya but just let me KNOW
Shoot the shot ya got
When every nigga rock the spot
I got... to get down (boogie)
So many fables from labels it's hard to stay stable
But a nigga stay up like seat backs or trey tables
At any lecture that I speak at
I'm pitifully ridiculin' weak cats
For being ridiculous with the shit ya bust
I can tell ya sniffin' dust, tryin' to riff with us
Nigga, I bust rhymes like pomegranates
Fuck around and run the planet
Make the underhanded want to panic
I'm the fliest on papyrus
Look deep into my iris and try to deny US
It's religion that I rip the rhythm
Got all fans wavin' they hands like hypnotism
And the weightless hate this
When I fuck around and start rippin' off the top like a rapist
While you stand by the mic on the wait list (I'm next man, I'm next)
Shoot the shot ya got
When every nigga rock the spot
I got... to get down (boogie)
When it gets hectic a dope fiend will use a Coca Cola can for a smokin' utensil
Like I wrote this rap, with a broken pencil
I smokes like a freight train
One man with eight brains
Punch will make a sadomasochist hate pain
Wait till I master this
Like Plato and? The Audorius?
It's likely we fuck with your psyche
Developin' mental mic maneuvers to make these marks like me
I be a wonder with words
Keep my styles inventive, spinnin' at 33 and 1/3
The heard of me in the flats, heard of me in the burbs
Studied my etiquette, lyrics embedded in tracks
Peep the predicate you better get back
My format with raps stay ahead of the wack
It's like you're lost in the Sudan, caught in a sand trap
And palmin' Anthrax, tell your man, "Stand back"
Or I'll apply the pressure by hand man
They can't stand that
My shit EXPLODE, where ever it land at
A nigga got his own sack
Wack vulture, hover where the microphone at
Shoot the shot ya got
When every nigga rock the spot
I got... to get down (boogie)