Kwamanwiz

Lyrics

Big Kwam - "Kwamanwiz" [Emcee(s): Big Kwam] [Producer(s): Nick Wiz] [Intro: Big Kwam] Yeah, yeah, yeah. '99 ('99), Big Kwam (Big Kwam). Yo (Yo), Nick Wiz, what it is? Blind Side (Blind Side), Wide Angles (Wide Angles) Compilation (Compilation). It's not a game (It's not a game, niggas). Yo, yo, yo [Verse 1: Big Kwam] Yo, shall I go first? You hear the classical verse, hot like when Calicoes burst in battle. What the fuck? You get slapped and coerced Rappers so dirt, but they actresses who'd rather slash your wrist [?] turn a [?] into a pacifist Pulitzer-Prize-winning, few hits of lye Pending, my hand high, two slits for eyes grinning Flashing the ammo, contraband in the dash in the panel Kwam passionate vandal, trying to turn scarce, catching the ample Cats procrastinate. Why your staff debate? Had your girl straight masturbate to my master tape Because my vocals seductive. Who told you to fuck with The ex-villainist, lyricist, unapproachable, rough kid? Y'all niggas is brainless, lobotomy cats Who got you gassed? Truth is you probably wack. Smash who? That shit is taboo like sodomy acts. Sever Your mic hand, get yourself anatomically axed [Hook: Big Kwam] (x2) I'm my own man. You a pawn in this biz What we do, huh? Bomb kids and split wigs Who you be, kid? Big Kwam and Nick Wiz Collabo—that's why this song is John Bliz [Verse 2: Big Kwam] My provocative rhymes enable me to cop it with fine But if not, I recline, twisting up this chocolate dime Getting my frame dented, my pen engrave an insane image On your brain with paragraphs of pain from resin-stained fingers The pain lingers like [?]. You the former Youth in this rap shit, goose and a fitted backwards Go tell your label staff, relatives, and remaining crabs Your sales is about to drop deeper than elevator shaft Propeller blades attack your grill, niggas be acting ill Nothing but packaged deals manufactured for platinum sales I'm having none of it, microphone got a rubber grip, bang Will slang like a dozen Crips on some struggles and blunted shit Fuck who you running with—it's academic. My staff Present this, shows all of you wack pretenders'll get sacked from scrimmage I'm at the limit, plus I'm properly stressed, through With being cool—now it's only animosity left [Hook: Big Kwam] (x2) I'm my own man. You a pawn in this biz What we do, huh? Bomb kids and split wigs Who you be, kid? Big Kwam and Nick Wiz Collabo—that's why this song is John Bliz [Verse 3: Big Kwam] Kwam master killer, my paragraphs are bitter, yours is like Half a Miller with a twist of sarsaparilla, crawling Cash is realer, so who want massive figures? Half my niggas is social outcasts and sinners Brash non-conformants who mix hash with chronic. You frail Someone ought to check your yellow ass for jaundice The street's a snake pit, where sheisty niggas try to peep the faces Of your cards while trying to double-cross you like sneaker laces My fleet's evasive when it comes to ulterior motives My theory is: stay close to the fam, survive, and stay weary of vultures Niggas be dissing—that's why I'm, like, viciously spitting This vividly written jewel to make your periphery glisten The bitches I'm twisting can vouch for the length of my dick You a slouch, not to mention a prick. Shout and Your men'll get hit—that's how I'm doing you fags. Underground Even with a major deal soon to get bagged [Hook: Big Kwam] (x2) I'm my own man. You a pawn in this biz What we do, huh? Bomb kids and split wigs Who you be, kid? Big Kwam and Nick Wiz Collabo—that's why this song is John Bliz [Outro: Big Kwam] I'm my own man. You a pawn in this biz Uh, bomb kids and split wigs Uh, Big Kwam and Nick Wiz Yeah, this song is John Bliz Uh, my man and their mans. Who we Be, huh? Big Kwam and Nick Wiz. A Da-da-da, Big Kwam and Nick Wiz Collabo—that's why this song is mad biz Mad biz, John Bliz. Word up Big Twan, what up, nigga? P.A Black, Terror, my nigga F.T Street Smartz, word up D Grimm, Everes. Y'all know The rest. T-Ro, you know how we go Word up. All my niggas No doubt