Brand New Heavy Freestyle

Lyrics

[Verse 1] Those who chose to be foes drop like dominos One by one, big name pros become John Does Manila had a thriller But I get iller than Jacob Killer Miller drill a hole in your body Using soul as a filler, until another rapper jumps up Gave the crowd free Reeboks, and you still didn't pump them up You need the poet with more soul than Doctor Scholl's Instead of battling walk barefoot over hot coals Who owns the title? Show me the man sitting next to the man Sitting next to the man Sitting next to the gah damn man I plan to whip 'em Take his belt and strip 'em And for being a good sport, I flip 'em a quarter to tip 'em Hip 'em; I'm black gold from Mother Earth Me taking the loss Is like seeing a brother surf Rare, yeah, you think I'm dope? Don't sleep on Erick When you compare authentic to generic You say the flavor units gotta be real, like Cheryl Lynn Show you how to swing it like Errol Flynn So what you're saying is dead Your style, your whole crew is softer than wet bread The baddest men in town ain't Leroy Brown He stuck his dick in a donut and still couldn't fuck around Pound for pound It sounds too immense It would make no sense The consequences be too intense, huh I make heavy statements you make thin points I'm puffin a fat hootie mack And you're struggling through a pin joint Wait a minute while I put the funk back in it And people get ready cuz it's brand new and heavy [Instrumental interlude] [Verse 2] When I brainstorm, it's thunder and lighting And the whole 9 Emcees that run up bounce back cuz I hold mine Why would you think I would jump I'm not a toad hops I heard you've been running shit, but this is where the road stops A stone wall on the microphone Y'all swing to a voice that rings like a telephone Call because I'm dope Emcees tried to take a hit and pass the glass to a fiend But yo, I'll break your shit in half Like a breadstick Money hold your head Quick duck before you're stuck in the hospital bed Sick or worse, in a coma, for smelling the aroma Of flavor, but you inhaled too quick; it was ammonia I burned your sinus, I burned your sight, and destroyed your brain Making your skull null and void Holding zero content, your raps carry no pounds and have no rounds You know howI sloppy Your flow sounds, you're off sync Go get a soft drink and think up new rhymes But you waste time and a lot of ink You say shit so booty that your breath stinks I got a style so deep that the pen sinks Into the paper like quicksand So if you come and leave with long sleeves And have tricks planned Cause man to man Man, your styles are primitive You're short on rhymes, and your vocab's limited My styles broader you're sure to order more to go You ain't hip to the flow Act like you know But I don't think you're ready for a poet with soul With the freestyle that's brand new and heavy [Outro] You know? 1991 onto the '92 and '93 and so forth and so on Know what I'm sayin'? I ain't sleepin' EMCEE's is creepin' But it's cool cause I got my back, know what I'm sayin'? Erick Vaan in the house Soul brothers in the house And the Brand New Heavies is definitely in the house Know what I'm saying? And yo I'm out like James Brown, take us home Heavy…