Budweiser Superfest Freestyle

Lyrics

[Intro] Where's 2Pac and Biggie Smalls Rock that ill shit Oh shit! [Verse 1: Scoob] Check it, check it, check it, check it! This here for the motherfuckin' record Here we here, we here we go, here we-here we go Can I, can I, can I kick a motherfuckin' flow? Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, I chitty bang bang Motherfuckin' niggas can't hang Well, oh no, look at the cloud, it's gonna rain But I don't give a fuck, I'm letting niggas know they can't hang Don't give me no lip, don't give me no backtalk, yeah break North Don't make me get my gun and blow your motherfuckin' head off Once again, niggas know my style, goddamn it Unless it's on the cut, so give me the mic and watch me slam it Hard like Shaquille; oh, you better kneel When you see me comin, Big Scoob got 'em runnin' Sex when I flex, I catch wreck on the world tour With dough in my pockets, big like the biscuits in 'CB4' Set up a contest, I'm coming, I'm taking the dough They wouldn't pick you, even if you had an afro So don't try me, you better walk by me I'll do you like the first part in Menace II Society Like Cypress Hill, yo, I'm insane I'll shoot a hole in your toe, I'll make you "Jump" like the House of Pain Bang-biggy, bang-biggy-bang-bang Niggas can't hang, niggas can't hang Bang-biggy, bang-biggy-bang-bang Motherfuckin' niggas can't hang [Verse 2: The Notorious B.I.G.] Where Brooklyn at?! Where Brooklyn at?! Where Brooklyn at?! Where Brooklyn at?! We gonna do it like this Anytime you're ready, check it – I got seven Mac-11's, about eight .38's Nine 9's, ten Mac-10's, the shits never end You can't touch my riches Even if you had MC Hammer and them 357 bitches Biggie Smalls, the millionaire, the mansion, the yacht The two weed spots, the two hot Glocks Huh, that's how I got the weed spot I shot dread in the head, took the bread and the lamb spread Lil' Gotti got the shotty to your body So don't resist, or you might miss Christmas I tote guns, I make number runs I give MCs the runs drippin' When I throw my clip in the AK, I slay from far away Everybody hit the D-E-C-K My slow flow's remarkable, peace to Mateo Now we smoke weed like Tony Montana sniff the yayo That's crazy blunts, mad L's My voice excels from the avenue to jail cells Oh my god, I'm dropping shit like a pigeon I hope you're listenin', smackin' babies at their christening [Pre-Verse: 2Pac] Yeah, where the motherfuckin' thugs at?! Throw up your motherfuckin' middle finger We gonna do this shit like this [Verse 3: 2Pac] I thank the Lord for my many blessings, though I'm stressin' Keep a vest for protection, from the barrel of a Smith & Wesson And all my niggas in the pen, here we go again Ain't nothing separating us but my MAC-10 Born in the ghetto as a hustler, older A straight soldier, buckin' at the bustas No matter how you try, niggas never die We just retaliate with hate, then we multiply You see me striking down the block, hitting corners Mobbing like a motherfucker, living like I wanna And ain't no stopping at the red lights, I'm sideways Thug Life, motherfucker – crime pays Let the cops put their lights on – chase me, nigga! Zig-zaggin' through the freeway – race me, nigga! In a high speed chase with the law The realest motherfucker that you ever saw [Verse 4: Shyheim] Yo, this goes out to everybody from Staten Island (Ah, Mister Cee, and you don't stop) – Yo, times is getting hard, word is bond, I swear to God I even got caught trying to steal from the junkyard A born terror, a rebel without a pause I never had a good Christmas, so who is Santa Claus? I walk the streets at night with my head down In this lil' town you see clowns that wanna be down So they get a Glock and lick shots to get props And when shit rocks, all you can hear when the shells drop An old man got shot in the parking lot, in front of my building I hang with his grandchildren And for the nigga that pulled the trigger, then tried to slide And hide, but he got knocked by the Homicide And this happens every day around my way So I pray that I can live another day [Segue: Shyheim & Big Daddy Kane] This how we gonna do it, hold up, Cee – aiyyo, let's try this... Staten Island in the motherfuckin' house! Wassup, Wu-Tang Clan in here or what? [Verse 5: Big Daddy Kane] Now what's the bullshit niggas been saying? Don't try to act like Martin now, with that "I was just playin'!" No need to grieve for more, now that the beef is on Uhh!! Oh yeah, motherfucker, your teeth is gone Just 'cause you rap don't meant that you're catching wreck with me Step to this, I'll give your mic a vasectomy I only know one nigga that can come next to me No, that's a tattle, 'cause I can't count my own shadow A battle, I gots to have it, 'less you're gonna rob me Like they did Whitaker when he fought Chávez 'Cause when it comes to going against Kane rappin' That's like a pimp trying to pull a nun – ain't nothing happenin' Non-resistible, non-compatible I'm not saying I'm the best, I'm just saying I'm fuckin' incredible And let's just get one more thing understood – If I fart on a record – trust me, nigga, that shit gon' sound good