TYSON

Lyrics

[Intro: DJ Mykael V] ('95) Yeah, yeah, yeah, what y'all thought this was? We here baby, we run up in the spot You already know what type of time it is, check your watch Y'all thought this rap stuff was a game? Why you keep playin' with us, yo? [Verse 1: Kaleb Mitchell] Back like I got a vendetta, they let the beast out Hand me the microphone, I lock in and I tweak out All I see is some clones, they modelin' after me now Tried to throw them a bone and y'all bit the hand that will feed y'all Back, but applyin' this pressure, the game watered down If y'all ain't ridin' waves so I hold you - probably drown I am not impressed by whoever y'all think deserve the crown Lot of suckers said they would pass me and they are not around Back to black and out of them- All the ones that'd doubted them claimin' that they was proud of 'em Wonderin' how we did it, I know when they brought it out of 'em Uh, we ain't made from the same fabric Life gave me love 'til I made classics Tryna block the lane, I skipped them in front' they traffic Took ahold of the sickness in my blood and I made magic Kept my head down and got the work, look what came of it Nothin' gon' be the same on the day that we drop beloved [Interlude: Mike Tyson] I'm the best ever I'm the most brutal and vicious and most ruthless champion that's ever been There's no one (that) can stop me, there's no one that can match me (Wait) [Verse 2: Jon Keith] I know that I'm the one 'cause Christ left the ninety-nine for me Kinda cute, I got sons tryna style on me (Yeah) Lot of opps DM'ing tryna vibe I'ma tell 'em like my mom, lil boy we is not homies Don't get it twisted, this is what I witness Ho, ho, ho, and I ain't talking Saint Nicholas (Hoe) Tryna skydive off the top of Satan's hit list Or maybe it's you Pharisees, I can't tell the difference (What?) All your verses is my TBTs and I ain't feelin' reminiscent Bars on cricket wireless, it's not connecting (Hello?) To anyone who doubted if I'd ever be a legend I don't call 'em haters no more, I call 'em blessings I used to want to be like them but now I'm really him (Yeah) They gon' respect the pen or get the pen It's west side I represent, who really friends? It don't depend, you come correct, 'cause I would not pretend If he ain't indie tribe on this side, it ain't safe for him That ain't even hate for them, it's a fact I'm apin' them like H&M Matter of fact I bury them and pray for them Jesus make 'em raise again better then he used to be, remakin' him (Oh) What, you gotta face it Lot of y'all tasteless I saw this comin' back when I was doin' dayshifts I heard they cleared a spot for me on the A-list If you ain't praying for me, take me off your playlist