lirik lagu nine - who u won test
intro/chorus: repeat 4x
who you won test, me have a champion style
verse one:
meet the mic controller, the philly roller, the wicked one
sun rude bwoy come rhymes off top the head
said what i said and did what i did
never catch another bid, create rubbers and slid
i’m out of there, ghost evaporate vanish
callate la voca if need be i’m spanish
no habla ingles, police ask questions
i don’t know nuttin, ain’t nuttin happening, stop stressing
i’m headed down the alleyway
with the smith on my hip, shank in my hand, who’s the man
you won test, who me?
i think you better back up and chill, g
don’t make me mad boy, don’t even try
eyah got skills, eyah smoke mad thai
you steppin to a brother who been through it all
my freestyle is wild you nah won test my yes y’all
you think you got flavor to match?
you can get a smack for that, black
chorus
verse two:
n-body can do it
you runnin out of gas sun, leakin much fluid
i’m hungry like jack two inches away from a big mac
then buck buck buck
take that witcha on the way down, so you don’t feel the ground
when you hit, and your head splits, f-ck all that bullsh-t
it’s hectic, respect it, the dialect, i come
original, the intellect, refuses to tongue twist
so don’t tell me naythan
me have a champion style, hardcore with a taste of jamaican
you steppin to the wrong one the nine is the seed of jesus
i get loose on ninety proof
fatter than a bubble goose, unpredictable
you never know what i’m going to say after i say
what i say when i say what i say when i play, next? !?
there it is, who you won test
interlude:
the deceased resented the fact, and told him off in no uncertain terms
he still kept coming, he identified himself, and then drew his revolver
chorus
verse three:
cream of the crop nonstop hip-hop
funky stuff rough enough to, break up the handcuffs
scuff a cream puff like an old pair of boots
when the nine millimeter shoots the gift i was born with
who’s that, with the b–by trap, poisoning rap
with the wack bullcr-p, we can’t have that
shut him down, i’m underground
and if my sound hits the airwaves of pop, it’ll still be hip-hop
no samples from barry manilow
strictly timbo, you know, the whole 40 below
that’s how i’m rollin in the nines
nine-five, nine-six, nine-seven to get mines
outro:
yeah i’m sending this out to all you bigmouth
knucklehead suckers that was talkin all that garbage
i am the man, who you won test, punk?
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