lirik lagu david dallas - u know my steez
[intro: dj premier]
the real, the real
the real hip~hop
mcing (mcing) and djing (djing)
from your own mind (from your own mind)
you know? (you know?)
“i… i guess right now we should start the show?”
[verse 1: david dallas]
hehe, yeah, yeah
the monotone melodic microphone
poetical, hotter than a switch of the kettle to on
after five minutes, divine in a sense
when i sent it, the sentence is descended directly from god
nah, this ain’t your regular hog on a mic
regular swine, ’cause with the rhyme better designed
just ain’t foul, i’m german engineering
them cats featurin’ and want a reverse appearance
[?] when my verse hit, on some worst kind of worst sh~t
they probably wanna see the boy d get the curtains
but like earth, wind and fire told you, it’s a fantasy
come september, you’ll be mad at me
your man’ll mean this when it go to st~~z and better flow
shine make you squint like you eskimo
test me, ho, i’m ready to sharpen up, lift plus
take that benchmark, then i raise it an [?] up
and pimp struck, all you catch a breath
don’t have to asthma attack your chest, ’cause it’s cruisy, bro
still, i spit it like a uzi, though
i see you when you get there like coolio, whoa
[chorus: dj premier]
ha
“you know my st~~z!”
“let ’em know – do your thing, god”
“keep it live”
“the mic ––”
[verse 2: guru]
on the microphone, you know that i’m one of the best yet
some punks ain’t paid all of their debts yet
tryna be fly, ridin’ high on the jet
set with juvenile rhymes, makin’ fake~ass death threats
big deal, like en vogue, here’s somethin’ you can feel
styles more tangible, and image more real
for some time now, i’ve held the scrolls and m~n~scripts
when it’s time to go all out, you’ll be like, “d~mn, he flipped!”
now i’m sick, fed up with the bullsh~t
got the lyrical full clip, givin’ you a verbal ass~whip
don’t trip – it’s the gifted prolific one
known as bald head sl!ck; why is the press all on my di~d~ck?
my style be wilder than a kamikaze pilot
don’t try it – i’m about to start more than a friggin’ riot
styles unsurpassable, and nukkas that’s suckas –
yo, them motherf~ckers are harrassable
for i be speakin’ from my parables, and carry you beyond
the mic’s either a magic wand –
or it gets tragic, like the havoc of a nuclear bomb
then i grab your palm – no pulse, you’re gone
and if you thought we’d lose our niche, in this rap sh~t? you way wrong
i stay up, i stay on, shine bright like neon
your song’s pathetic, synthetic like rayon
fat beats, they play on, want dope rhymes? put me on
word is bond – you know my st~~z
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