Bad, Bad Man
Chaos, you should have put this one to baulk, man.
They not ready, they don't know what's coming man.
Oh we gonna drop this on them right here.
Y'all aint ready for this. Y'all aint ready for none of this.
Your boy's a bad man, and we invading the streets.
Make unclever rappers scurred, they be dropping the heat.
Shocked the world, now I'm standing alone.
I flip fools like them clamshell cellular phones.
You can't help but nod your head to the track.
Fuck the watered down rap, we be taking it back.
Give it to me straight, ain't no chasing it.
Check yourself in the mirror, ain't no facing it.
Cause you playing the role and you planning to fold.
This the masterplan, we got the planet on hold.
We all over the streets like your favorite sneaker.
Breaking up your sound like a drive-through speaker.
Everything that I be spitting is strong.
After I rock, fast forward through the rest of this song.
We the monkey wrench that's gonna ruin your plan.
Don't fuck with John Cena, I'm a bad bad man.
With the mic in my hands, I'm a bad man.
Even in a fight with my hands, I'm a bad man.
Living in the streets all my life, I'm a bad man.
I'm a bad man. I'm a bad man.
With the mic in my hands, I'm a bad man.
Even in a fight with my hands, I'm a bad man.
Living in the streets all my life, I'm a bad man.
I'm a bad man. I'm a bad man.
We devils, rocking ambient levels.
We set loose anong hot tunes to instrumentals.
And cats got one-liners, I drop several.
Man I think its funny you choose who's ???
Running in place, we make it moves, and y'all settle.
I rip rappers and take responsibilityfor making future hall of famers look third rate.
Y'all are loss for words like conversation on your worst first date.
And (right makes?) creep through side streets.
Loose leaf, note pads, thats where rhymes leak.
Punchlines, man, dont even bank.
I got knee-slapping tracks, y'all, cruising the land.
You a rhyme writer buddy, man, that's a joke.
You aint worth of being my secretary man thats a cloak.
I flood tracks like cracks and bolts.
And fucking rappers chocked up with their own lines and they croak.
With the mic in my hands, I'm a bad man.
Even in a fight with my hands, I'm a bad man.
Living in the streets all my life, I'm a bad man.
I'm a bad man. I'm a bad man.
With the mic in my hands, I'm a bad man.
Even in a fight with my hands, I'm a bad man.
Living in the streets all my life, I'm a bad man.
I'm a bad man. I'm a bad man.
Turn up the microphone and feed me, I'm a beast MC's and
the pizzas it's what I eat. Sixteen. I'll leave you in the street.
My rhymes are sicker than gangrene on both feet.
It's spreading up the leg and headed for the head.
Your rhymes are whack, your style is proof that the brian
corrosion is fuck it with your chosen flows.
I'm nice with mics in hands, I'll break your nose like Mikey Tyson.
Fighting in his prime, one time, and I shake up the room, one
time, boom to the jaw, your face is...











