straight spittin’ lyrics – flipmode squad

straight spittin’
flipmode squad
the imperial

i’ll bust all you cats in the game for malpractice
i’m in jersey, where i’m paying no taxes
i’ll stick your girl, agnus
flipmode bring the madness
platinum status, rampage i’m the baddest
check the credit, yo you might as well dead it
i said it, f*ck the edit, it’s uncut
n*gg* what, it’s crunch time for me to shine
i’m a show you easily for me to take mines
p*ss my nickel plated nine, call me einstein
buck a shot two times and stick you for your rhyme
put you in a pine box
you and your whole family’s on detox
hustlin crack for reeboks
holy socks, cut you with my ox
rampage got the city locked
and your function, to the flat bush junction
causin rambunction, watch me do you somethin

baby sham on some new sh*t
new and exclusive
5’3″, caramel, tight grip on a four fifth
leave em all stiff, blow smoke from this foul drift
n*gg* with the 6 story, throw em off the cliff
as i speak the sh*t to put my name on the list
the small thug with a slug put a mark on his wrist
a tattoo of pyramids, puttin hollows in clips
peeped your gat, jammed tight, ross your lookin to riff (what the f*ck?)
qb’s type sh*t, cause we runnin your clique
see me in the drop, with your six, sayin she snitched
but never that, cuz-o, high beam through the window
my lookouts move slow, they heard you never blast though
got a safe in your crib, sham, you know the code
search, spoke out, 3, 2, 1, that’s zero
took the c notes and flip mode left on the quietest note
swallowed these then cleared your throat
b*tch *ss, you should have spoke

*gimmie an f*
f*ck the bullsh*t, fire my gun
fly a n*gg* head, f*ck it for fun
f*ck where you from
*gimmie an l*
layin on beaches, killin all leeches
love to break a liar face
pick up the pieces, yo
*gimmie an i*
intelligence eliminates all irrelavance
icon of immaculate rhyme common sense
*gimmie a p*
powerful professional
poppin my pistol
make a pack of people paranoid like 20 pitbulls
*gimmie an m*
master of all missions
maker of decisions
head on collisions
m*ssacre the meat rack, ask the women
*gimmie an o*
got n*gg*s open, open heart surgery
rhyme so official, overthrow governments
sh*t is nursery
*gimmie a d*
diggin my d*ck all inside your chick
dominate the heavyweight division
rhymin district
*gimmie an e*
everlasting slang
eternal ebonics
lyrical e-mail
stabalize livin in all my economics
group of men, women
unified force
movin like one in unison
beg your pardon

what they call me
a hundred on a harley
out of nowhere, and keep you surfin like brawley(sp?)
narley! i’m the b*tch with the pistol
woody woodp*ck*r or l.l. at the bristol
official stand, hold it down in trent
then link up at the tunnel with the rest of my camp
paper like meade, i’m in the mix like speed
and be screamin on the mic till my tonsils bleed
yeah that’s the way it is
like when a kid get chirstened
like comin to the bricks to find your whip missin
rockin uptown, on down to west howston
houston, peace to my b*tches that’s boostin
after juicin, i’m a straight black ball a rapper
tap a n*gg*’s nerves like them hackers
be goin on the modem, i get the call from the dispatcher
then show them mother f’ers what i’m after

yo i back slap a wack mc for trying to be
something he not, pull his card, blow up his spot
n*gg* talkin bout murder but ain’t committin one
n*gg*s talkin bout gats but ain’t bustin one
yo, i see you in the (?) portayin like you a thug
yea, your man got a gatt, but he ain’t bustin no slug
you’s a local black spokesman, i split your front open
viscious knife wound, f*cked up like ron goldman
spliff, i spit, fully equipped for any bullsh*t
grew up with the bad and ugly, quick to pull sh*t
ignorant, vulgar, on your taperecorder
idol to your son and probably lover to your daughter
fatman son, wilted grandson, (?) nephew, frank the cousin

*uh huh, one more time, uh huh, spliff, come on*
bust my gun, like columbians
make n*gg*s colapse like f*cked up lungs

better obey the laws of the land
or lay still like soldiers of fortune in nam
closed coffin with flags folded in half
triangular shape, blow out the candles with grace
for fabulous tastes, some will, battle for sp*ce
pay the ultimate price, poltergeist
put the holy ghost in your life, bring you closer to christ
focus your dice, when the vulture’s in flight
resculpture the mic, then smash heads like the opium bite
prophet in vein, metropolis claim body and soul
id’s controlled in the optical frame
never stoppin the game
remove your squad with steady plans
i body slam punks like superstar billy gramm

*straight spittin… word is bond… flip mode squad… striaght spittin… lyrical
*ss whippin… we straight spittin…*

/ flipmode squad lyrics