Mic To Mic (Radio)

Lyrics

Big Kwam - "Mic to Mic" [Emcee(s): Big Kwam] [Producer(s): The Creators (Juliano & Si Spex)] [Intro: Samples] "Yeah!" "Come on!" "Feels great!" "Yeah!" [Verse 1: Big Kwam and (Samples)] The platinum-selling rap legend that hit your melon Thoughts compelling, weed-inhaling, verbal rebellion Kwam be extra abrasive to the texture Ill scheme, to-root connector wrecking your sector ("Yeah!") I stay fresh-dipped, a life-or-death script My vocal clefts rip collarbones and hips if you slip Got styles you couldn't figure yet, intrigue like Naked silhouettes behind mosquito nets—you feel me yet? ("Yeah!") God damn it, buddha'd eyes be chinky-slanted Hard as granite, shatter your rhyme like it's ceramics While you slept in hammocks, my vocal aerodynamics Ran through your barracks, shining like 24-carats Lyrically speaking, my heat-seeking shot repeating Cocked to rock weaklings when dropped on block meetings It's a fact I twist backs, spliffs from stacks Limp wrists will crack with this swift gift I pack ("Yeah!") The pain-inflicter burning niggas 'til they blister Split the Richter, tweeters blown on transistors Kwam is stoned, a Don like Corleone Spots I got sewn, you get knocked, ock, it's on ("Yeah!") Utilizing math, following drafts, I craft Mics with skin grafts when I blast breaks in half. A threat Like bomb scares, the Kwam fear no emcee Long as I'm here, grenade-launching verbal warfare [Hook: Big Kwam, (Ad-Libs), and {Samples}] Lyrically, Kwam {"Yeah!"} splits your wig. Me wack, kid? How you fig'? (Huh) {"Uh!"} You must be smoking dust or worse (Ha!) You need to reverse and disperse {"Feels great!"}. Mic To mic, toe to toe, you're bound to drop first {"Yeah!"} (What?) Lyrically, Kwam {"Uh!"} splits your wig (Ha!). Me wack, kid? How you fig'? (Uh huh) {"Yeah!"} You must be smoking dust or worse (What?) You need to reverse and disperse {"Feels great!"}. Mic To mic, toe to toe, you're bound to drop first [Verse 2: Big Kwam and (Samples)] I got A rapport with weed spots and liquor stores, my mind State be tore out the doorframe and more Bars remain critical, link verbal to visuals Smoked-out individual blessed by herbal rituals ("Yeah!") Kwam be the one-man army, sipping Dom P, and Twan? He put the essence of an emcee upon me ("One love") Armed with the blueprint, I do dent your two-cent raps That need improvement. The chocolate got my crew bent ("Feels great!") I'm trailblazing, brain-grazing, and hell-raising My mood swings like clubs from schizophrenic cavemen I can't be snuffed, bum-rushed, or handcuffed When this man puff, he drop rhymes like dandruff ("Yeah!") Fronting theatrics get slapped quick with rap hits That leave backs split and clap shit just like gat clips I'm all that plus chips and all that other good shit Intricate like Arabic script written in toothpicks, cliques ("Yeah!") Under bombardment, the sergeant with a squadrant Making papers ("Uh!") like Charmin, I'm harming The frail ("Yeah!"), knock the wind out your sails, wings clipped Like nails when I wait to exhale ("Uh!") the Holy Grail I'll lamp on the meridian with a billion Adaptable styles reminiscent of amphibians It ain't hard to get your retard squad charged up for Three bars. Believe me, god, I could pull your card At will. The facts still remain my contacts real Wax and seal, emcees decompose in the Catskills [Interlude: Big Kwam and (Sample)] Motherfucker! ("Yeah!") Coming through, '96 is all mine. What?!? What?!? [Hook: Big Kwam, (Ad-Libs), and {Samples}] Lyrically, Kwam {"Yeah!"} splits your wig. (Yeah!) Me wack, kid? How you fig'? (What?) {"Uh!"} You must be smoking dust or worse (Ha!) You need to reverse and disperse {"Feels great!"}. Mic To mic, toe to toe, you're bound to drop first {"Yeah!"} (No doubt) Lyrically, Kwam {"Uh!"} splits your wig (Ha!). Me wack, kid? How you fig'? (What?) {"Yeah!"} You must be smoking dust or worse (Aha!) You need to reverse and disperse {"Feels great!"}. Mic To mic, toe to toe, you're bound to drop first [Outro: Big Kwam and (Samples)] Yeah Herb-smokers ("Yeah!"), it's all love, yeah Young and reckless—what?—it's all love, what? ("Yeah!") Money-makers, it's all love, hah Blindside Records ("Feels great!"), it's all love, yeah Ghetto strugglers ("Yeah!"), it's all love, what? Mars, A.K.A Smithy, let's get ("Yeah!") Spliffy. My man D upstate behind the steel Gate, when you get home, it's all love, what? ("Yeah!")