1- My style is fat, so I swung it, blunted
The riggedy ruffneck Brooklyn nigga brung it -> Das EFX
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[Daddy-O]
Yo Rick, bring yo` ass home..
The sounds of my voice make the honies wanna flip
and the flow of my phrase make you have no choice to get wit
There used to be a Stetsa, comin out to get ya
so beware; takin it to your punk-ass like (UHH UHH)
Take two to the gut
I come to kick a scrumpdelicious bone out your butt
You`re funkin with the O-Dad; and yo, guess what
I got a RHYME and I`m puttin it where the monkey put his nuts
RAGGIN on you wannabe-a-screamer MC`s
and all you Diggity Das triple-toungin wannabe`s
who just don`t have the fat flavor for the FUNK
And just in what I heard - you lack the spunk
and you lack the style, and you lack the poise
And all you MC`s sound like little boys
Actin like hardrocks, STARIN in my face
BACK UP OFF ME `FORE I PUT YOU IN YOUR PLACE!
I`m the same brother that likes +Sally Walk+ and I`ma
bad motherfucker from East New York
You see me callin them SHOTS like I`m Jimmy the GREEK
and when you see me on the STREET I make a HEART skip a beat!!
2- My style is fat, so I swung it, blunted -> Das EFX
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[Daddy-O]
Ride along with the wave cause my tides never end
Dippin through curves as I come around the bend
Feedin you the floor, without Johnny Gill
and get you all messy like your drink when it spill
I got that nat-urally legitimate dope
being slung by the (??) coast to coast
And it`s so cold, I`m callin it wintery
If you don`t understand you must be thinkin elementary..
Badder than this it don`t come
And you get strung from my ability to blast like a gun
SO WHAT`S FOR DINNER HON?
Beats breaks and funk-fritters; punches and hard-hitters
BUT YOU DON`T WANNA GO THAT WAY
So my advice to you, is that you pu-puh-PARLAY
And bring it on back to the street
Turntables microphone and dope.. beats
Cause it ain`t no secret to it black
And the only rule is don`t be wack
And you best stay out of my path
or I`ma haveta put this SIZE NINE IN YO` ASS
So I`m keepin it - ON AND ON AND ON
And you know why you`re movin UP cause it`s a rap song
My years in the game equal about eleven
And when I die, I`M GOIN STRAIGHT TO HIP-HOP HEAVEN
with MC Trouble and Cowboy rockin the mic
and (??) playin the drums so the beats are tight
Cuts courtesy of Subroc and Scott LaRock
Peace to Trouble T-Roy, YA DON`T STOP!
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[Daddy-O]
So now you think you know me; and maybe you remember
I was in a group and we had six members
We freaked (fake??), and saw +Sally Walkin+
Spoke with +Susie+ and had the +Jazz Talkin+
But now it`s kinda different, rap is gettin TRICKY
Gettin all commercial like watchin Mork and MINDY
Niggaz writin rhymes - thinkin of the video
but even a good video don`t make a good song do it? (NO!)
So back to the FOOD on my plate
I`m comin at you non-stop and there`s no escape
So whether I`m schoolin neighborhoods on how to speak and act
or coolin with my homeboys, smokin chunky black
I give a little HEART-BEAT HEART-BEAT PUMP
and watch the whole dance floor SHAKE THAT RUMP
to the sounds of the O-Dad ridin the funk
And it sho` sound good COMIN OUT YO` TRUNK
Watch me as I pump like a fist in a fight
and get you all strung like a FIEND on a crackpipe
with the sureshot, not that BULL-SHIT
cause the Daddy-O sound is legit - BEEEEOTCH!!!!
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[Daddy-O]
Yo I`d like to give a big up to Run-D.M.C.
The Unknown Ruffnecks.. and DJ Kiilu
