Brainwash Projects The Fight Song
Wait wait-Pop pop-
Looking like what?
Feeling like what?
Up in the place with the ill type strut
Gotta pay my tickets or be in handcuffs
I told you before I be opposite what
You know I freak that four letter word with Inglewood styles
No purchase neccesary
Legendary like Larry
With the greatest of ease
I leave wack emcees in denial
Disciplinary action
Handed to the beneficiary
Yeah yeah yeah, that was cool
Whatever, I'm in my cute sweater
I'm here like weather
Be your style like leather
You need to switch it up
Cause you sound straight wack
Back up a little
Cause you need a tic-tac
You walkin on some eggs boy
You better quit them nonsense
Your silly styles are soft
Like a hitman with a conscience
Exaggerated antics are those of an adolescent
When we hang out I take anti-wack rap suppresants
Ha ha, I laugh cause I'm in my bubble bath
You livin with your mom while I'm signing autographs
Really, what would you be
Without a rhyming dictionary?
My wrestling geek styling
The autographs you sign are on twenty traffic tickets
With a warrant for your arrest
The best for getting this car impounded
I'll pound you with the same line
Like 24 times in the same rhyme
Only one time is enough
Don't ever try to take mine
Ooh, b is kicking dope lines
Scary! Niggy Ziggy's got dope lines
I'm race you to the door
Without a metaphor
Verbal styles '89 while I'm dipped and refined
You only dirty bird thought you was fly
Jumping off the stage
Only to engage in a concussion
This fool is bum-rushed that can only lead
To the experience of a body-slam
Cause if you want
I will simply change the program
Let me speak upon your mic
My intentions-
Beat down!
Broken down to his very last compound
