Freestyle Ghetto Lyrics by King Tee

Freestyle Ghetto Lyrics


    Verse one: xzibit

    (see look look)
    I grab the mic and start breakin down niggas
    Wit out no problem
    Broadcastin live from the bottom/aint no mic checkin worse/
    Kick some rhymes if you got/but if it's wack
    I draw back the cap for the peelin
    Should of stuck to rock dealin
    Cuz it's the blood stealin/super vill..
    Chill..stayin high like the ceilin
    See there aint enough room for the both of us
    See it's a showdown/throw down
    Your best style i'll bust
    (yo)i write rhymes that make niggas throw they sets up
    Couldn't hold my style if you had a pair of handcuffs
    In all disrespect
    I'll snatch you by your neck
    And do a suplex and step
    So nigga you can check my credentials
    Just hard rhymes and instrumentals
    Xzhibit smash you wit a dental
    And a loaded pistol
    No longer lookin in the window
    I'll bust a field wit indo
    Killin quarts of beer
    Sadie's outta here...

    Verse two: mc breeze

    Like a fuze/start spreadin the news
    Its 94 and breeze is givin niggas the blues
    I paid my dues/and now it's time to go on to the next mode
    Make room for the kaboom/cuz i'm about to explode
    And drop bombs like a b1/cops i seize none
    And niggas step up/i soak emcseason
    3 seconds to detinate/you betta evacuate
    No time to hesitate/you fuckin featherweight
    I aint the type to pic up the mic
    And catch the stage fright
    I'll pull a gauge if i aint paid right
    To the promoters on tour
    Short me a buck and a buckshot and the barrel is yours!
    I'm psycho pathic like manson
    Aint wit the dancin
    But still i get more cheers than ted danson
    More dough than marino or roles than pacino
    You beatin me? that's only in your dreams ho
    I'm not sayin i'm unbeatable/i'm sayin i'm untouchable
    Livin comfortable just like a huxtable
    Plus i'm rollin wit the cross roads
    Movin fast foward/while you other suckas
    Stuck in a pause mode
    I goes deep like a great white
    But i'm a stay black
    No matter how high the pay stacks
    Or if my rep gets bigger
    You might get take this nigga out the ghetto
    But not the ghetto out this nigga.....

    Verse three: j-ro, tash

    For the balls basketballs
    Microphones gassin grass(hey)
    Some of the few things j-ro likes to pass
    93 mandingo/94 i'm the pharoah
    Cuz i'm b-bbad to the bone marrow
    I get wild
    Wit more styles than the martial arts
    I need weed
    I roll more grass than golf carts
    April 92 you no the ro was a looter
    Now i'm writin raps on my lab-top computer
    J-ro the tittie fiend/rap dean/wearin green
    Been on the scene/since the age of 13
    I learned i had to earn the mic
    Now's my turn
    I got furious styles like larry fishburne...

    Wit da bitches tunin me in
    Like it's the young and the restless
    Next up to bust my shit
    From the l-i-k-s's
    Yes it's the freshest
    Wit lyrics rough around the edges
    I'll smoke you on the mic
    Like a pack of benson hedges
    But..hold up wait
    I'll bust rhymes that'll circulate
    That'll wake yo punk ass up like mc eiht
    Cuz i be rockin rhymes
    Since the roof was on fire
    So point me to the bitch who's the dopest butterflyer
    I'll make her break it down like she patra when i catch ya
    Broadway is on the tables
    While i throw these lyrica atcha
    So....slow down before ya fuck wit my sound
    You betta do the hokey pokey
    And turn ya self around...

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