duck of disco Or a disco duck, I'm strictly hip hop Yo, Ason, what's up? I can't stop... Wu-Tanging, flipping the script and You could test my skills
sawed-off ready to blow a arm off Oh, Lord, you don't want no problems wit dude I'm out that Band, so you now the boy-band news I bruise ya crew then
on my arm or I'll be sounding busted I'm disregarded, treated like I ain't legitimate I'm making music, you don't see me as an instrument And it takes true skills
For those that get on heart that got a spot in the ghetto Let no one forget about the hard part Now in ninety-one we got a new brand, a new band Lookin
spike them like a Viking Wildstyle, like summer in Astoria Way back my peoples made Ajax join the Warriors Back when park jams found me trying to see the band
'll never be comp and your head will get stomped in From fuckin' with the crew that's boogie down Bronx rompin' Yo, the sugar dick is the man, and even the gap band
subject matter You know what? You know what? I'm sick and tired of rappers not real And suckers makin' it with a pop feel Labels signin' acts with nuff bills Tax write off, 'cause you have no skills
, check this out, check this out Listen all this shit y'all talkin' ain't got no frills We'll pass the 40 around and we'll see who's got some skills I
in these friends These bands, these stories and the places that I've been I thank God, mom and dad, Adriana for the love I feel inside Jordan, my phat ass band
nothing to show Who doesn't have a band? Shit I don't know What kind of sane person drops his own name? What kind of sane person boos his own band off
is sport Music is sport The feats are the test, they're like the musical Olympics Or like grand final meets without the seats It's band vs. band in
find your girl with a wet pijama Drippin with my cassette behind her Got more band trail than your hand's sellin Fans scalin, jam railin like it's van halen Skills
my nigga!) [maestro fresh wes] Well it's the fresh w-e to the s brother wes The style you try to kick is colourless I got the skills you wish you had
' in the crates ever since I was livin' in space Before the rat race, before monkeys had human traits I mastered numerology, big band theology Performed
tropical heat, chewing gum on ya seat Yeah, this happening sucks, yes indeed Tell me, what's da reason, yo Why do you came? Why do ya blame? The band
four carat [Ol' Dirty Bastard] Roll and stroll with the party scene Nigga wanna know me as Mr. Clean Wza-wza-wza-wza-Wu-Tang, flip the script and Test my skill
is designed to gloss over real problems And very often those who profess dissent only add to the deception. Words are banded about, but always at the
'll never play me on Urban, so fuck it put guitars on my beats, call me a rock band and market me Suburban either way my skills is ending up somewhere