[Jamal]
To set it off I got the proper ammunition
The skills are profession, versatility and great determination
To rip any MC who tests the ill little juvenile
Kicking styles, outcast child now
I`m sending a message to all you little MC`s out there
I`m bout to cause y`all many frights and nightmares
Anybody dissing, we seeing
We taking it to you lyrically physically, so don`t underestimate us
Illegal`s going for the kill, there`s no mercy
And the effect will be you lying in emergency, you heard me
If you ain`t true to your hip-hop, we`ll hit you with a bang-bang
And then boogie when your body drops, hops
Give me my props, who got my props, you got my props?
You don`t want to see a shorty go reach for his glock
And I ain`t talking about that glock that pop
I`m talking about the ill lyrics that I`m throwing off the top like
1 to the 2 to the 3 (On the M-I-C!) (Repeat 4x)
[Lord Finesse]
Peace to Illegal and A.G.
(Yo who the Funky Man?) Y`all brothers better say me
Not a tall guy, a small fry
Yo I`m all live, making more noise than a .45
And I`m naughty, far from corny
Got game for the shorties, tackle skins like a 40
Plus I got the hyper rhymes
When you say Lord Finesse yo brothers know I`m nice with mine
I be around like a time zone
Mess around get your mind blown, I`m brighter than rhinestones
And when I roll like an avalanche
Even Ray Charles can see clown rappers don`t have a chance
I grab the mic and start acting ill
Yo I`m strapped to kill, all the brothers with no rapping skills
Throw away mt shoes, they don`t fit ya, get the picture?
Yo check it out, while I hit you with the
[A.G.]
You`re a fake hip-hopper trying to ruin it
See other brothers doing it
So now you wanna put your little two in it
Playing games, I`m a start saying names
For selling rap`s a trap, for the money, honey, the fame
Won`t flip-flip, yes I`m on a hip-hop hooray tip
Crabs better lay quick, shhhh, or get your face split
Bass lines be burying, your beats are hurry-hurry
Show beats is cream, the meanest team never worry
Picasso with a mic so watch me paint, G
And if my boots don`t have a tree then it ain`t me
See I was raised in the ghetto, seen everything you could imagine
>From robbing to stealing, looting, shooting, and the stabbing
Chill around the way I can`t refuse it, I choose it
And maintain the pain and use it in my music
What I`m saying is hip-hop comes from way back
>From childhood to manhood then comes the fat track
Showbiz & A.G., massive wreck we catch
>From Dallas, Tex, to T-Next, then I`m back to the BX
Record on record, showstoppers don`t knock us
And give out propers to the real hip-hoppers
Brand Nubians, Grand Puba, and BDP
The Hit Squad, the Lench Mob, the Flavor U-N-I-T
Greg Nice, Smooth B, Tribe Called Quest, Killa G
GangStarr, Ice Cube, of course D.I.T.C.
The whole flavor tour of 19 Naughty 3
Jamal and Malik is Illegal and the Kid Capri
1 to the 2 to the 3 (On the M-I-C!) (Repeat 4x)
[Malik]
Next up to flex, snapping necks, catching wreck
When I finish this flow, you`ll regret that threat
Kicking rhymes at all times, with my brothers from the North
Never see me slipping, always ripping as they`re falling off
Don`t sleep on me or try to eat me up
Cause I`m raw, real rough & rugged rhymes on the regular
Where`s your girl? Hold up, she`s screaming cause I`m sticking her
Making this game come down, outta the hype
I got a call from Redman, he says Tonight`s Da Night
So Finesse bring the fat track and I`m sure to rock it
I`m living for hip-hop, I`m killing because of hip-hop
You can`t write your own hits, get get stopped in hip-hop
Or drop, giving your rocks, sinking shots, off your feet
Cause the L-I-L M-A-L-I-K can`t be beat
And A-B-C, ha, is easy as 1-2-3, yeah
As soon as the Lord on the beat, I couldn`t even speak
Just wrote all night, so I can rip the mic
Like this and like that, and I never will come wack
So peace to A.U. and I`m out like that, it goes
1 to the 2 to the 3 (On the M-I-C!) (Repeat 4x)
