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lirik lagu dj quik - tha proem

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“the following presentation is rated r.”

[hi-c] {-vocals being scratched-}
uhh! god d-mn! yeah!

[hi-c]
this my n-gga dj motherf-ckin quik
we gon’ take this sh-t back to the mixmaster days
and put it all in your jawmeat
and wiggle it around a little bit, hahaha
youknowhati’msayin? party favors n-gga
ahh yeah, y’all need a couple of ’em
we ain’t playin witcho’ b-tch–ss either
youknowhati’msayin? n-ggas try to walk the walk, talk the talk
but that bullsh-t ain’t nothin man {-scratches-}
i said that bullsh-t ain’t nothin man!
{-scratches: “aw, n-ggas, n-ggas..”-}
n-ggas can’t do what we do {“no”}
{-“bullsh-t ain’t nothin man!”-}
d-mn; so what you need to do.. is.. {“stop stop stop stop stop!”}
.. shut the f-ck up and listen for a minute {“listen!”}
pay attention – might learn somethin {“now listen!”}
don’t you carry yo’ -ss in the studio f-ckin wit dem boys neither
or they put knots all upside ya motherf-ckin head with the beats!
that’s my n-gga q.. i call him..
{“quik, quik-quik, q-quik, quik-quik”}
quik-a-lodeon {“too quik!”}
yeah.. huh? yeah.. {“quik-quik-quik-quik-quik-quik-quik”}
talk.. {“motherf-ckin quik”} spit it
yeah.. ooh! haha, yeah

now off of two-fifths of drank (drank drank)
they got yo’ boy lookin for a b-tch to spank (spank spank)
baby you can kick it but ya sister cain’t (nah nah)
runnin ’round smellin like a septic tank (ewwwahh)
girl you need to stop you know your -ss is stank (stank stank)
runnin ’round beggin all the baller for bank (bank bank)
tryin to hit a l!ck but like that you cain’t (nah nah)
cause everytime your -ss come around i faint (wooo!)
people get to p-ssin out;
i’ma give you one more chance but yo’ -ss is out
now don’t you bring yo’ -ss back smellin like raw trout (trout)
cause everytime i see you i’ma bust you out!
(here she come, look out!)
and you n-ggas with the demos (demos)
man you just as bad as dem hoes (hoes)
talkin bout your record comin out (out out)
but you need to put some gum in your mouth (h-ll yes)
cause before i hear you rhyme or you get a beat from quik

[shyheim da kid]
yo yo this shyheim, and y’all can suck my d-ck!
son you owe me, f-ck the dough i want it in blood
you was my homey, showed me nuttin but thug love
put me on to the game, bought me my first chain
let me ride shotgun, in your benz and range
i’m thinkin how this big n-gga gon’, go against the grain
hit him up when it’s foggy outside, about to rain
it’s about to rain teflon cop-k!llers
but we ride teflon can’t-stop-k!llers
i thought you was fam ’til you switched the love
now you, rich and f-ck, you forget the thug?
heard you on the radio, but i ain’t get no plug
and if you come around the way, i should get you stuck
i wish you luck, i’ma make you kiss the gun
and i ain’t gon’ stop until my justice done
what you wanna be labelled as, a coward or a duck?
what powder you cut, you wanted that building for what?
when you rep that building, what you said for that building
if it wasn’t for me, you woulda been dead in that building
you don’t know what it feel like to say i own that building
get dough in that building, or control that building
you don’t know that feeling, you ain’t condone that k!lling
cause when the cops came, you was like, “shy in that building”
i remember the days when you was shook in them buildings
you in front of these buildings, frontin like you build them
when scrams was home, you was on his d-ck
and you gave that b-tch money cause you always been a trick
you know shy da kid, i’m back on the block
bought the crack in the spot, spit back in the block
f-ckin clap at the cops, if i’m rappin or not
whatchu gon’ do n-gga? shoot or get shot
i’m hot on the block like new glocks out the box
all y’all fulla dope, at the bow(?) .. what?

[talib kweli]
yeah yeah.. yo
kweli, i’m rock this body and so forth and so on
you can get the d-ck, one to grow on or one to blow on
bet you quik get his dough on, i spit kick the flow on
got swift sh-t i throw on, cause i’ma leave what i float on
plus i get my roll on like baby and mannie fresh
after i go on y’all n-ggas’ll never bust like tantric s-x
the universal n-gga that represent the planet best
how i manifest from brooklyn to los angeles – people!
we hold this down like wherever you’re from
got my name all in your mouth like you pierced your tongue
pimped the game so hard we leave them wh0r-s numb
the more i come, kweli, i’m bout to blow like george young
i’m the don cheadle of rap, dope like arms and needles of crack
my lyrics attack and arm the people like gats
in cali studios we rest the heat up on the console
peep hollywood n-ggas who think it’s sweet like comanco
claimin they gangster and street like they lookin for beef
but with a gun in they t–th they just mc’s lookin for beats
y’all don’t want trouble, we pop bubbles and flex muscle
n-ggas don’t respect the lyrics, they respect your hustle
the industry is like kinko’s, makin copies while you wait
and the people always scream for new sh-t, like clue tapes
y’all speed this in your face, slow down like screw tape
cause as long as you rockin with quik, n-gga you straight


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