Shabaam Sahdeeq, Sick Lyrical Damager, and Ran Reed Freestyle (Scenes of the Underworld)

Lyrics

[Intro: Shabaam Sahdeeq] Yeah, yeah. Uh. Eddie Ill, D.L. Uh huh. Yo. We got Mr. Sahdeeq up in this motherfucker. We got SDL up in this motherfucker. We got Ran Reed up in this motherfucker. Word. Yo [Verse 1: Shabaam Sahdeeq] For the record, I just grab the mic and I check it Something unexpected for the ones that been dozing Leaving you open like a gash. Nigga, peep my style I rip shit foul. You ain't saying nothing I'm fearing BK to BX, BX to NJ Music to my ear like Tino cuente, ¿comprende? Spit verbs for my gente. Don't get it confused You lose fucking with those that don't care Put your ears to the concrete, feel the buzz on the street The elite in my fleet taking dimes to the hole You ask, "Who got soul?" Double Dollar Sign, bro Accurate flow keeping you on your toes You know, for sho [Verse 2: Sick Lyrical Damager] Yeah, yeah, SLD Making mills, here we go on the one, two, three I got skills that's unbelievable, intriguing you Like a quarterback throw balls to running backs, I'm receiving you Then leaving you with a touchdown 'cause what I touch now Is mics, while you touch blunts, getting high as kites But that's alright 'cause, in my cyph, to each his own I'm in a zone like the three digits before the seven on your telephone Got a better tone than a sax, so just relax Made your wife leave your home. You think she's coming back? None of that Now you're all alone like that kid, so then he hid I took your light without taking your life and death—that's what this nigga did Injuries for centuries leaving symphonies With enemies and twenty G's. You'll swear to God, "I'm flipping keys" Nigga, please. Don't even breathe this free "And don't be fooled by my baby face"—quoted from Little C Can you feel the breeze from the wind 'cause I'm above your rim? With a pen, writing 'cause I'm high, making millions For real [Interlude 1: Ran Reed] Yeah, Ran Reed. Representing Jersey, what? Uh, yo [Verse 3: Ran Reed] Who said I lost it? Niggas must be talking out their asscrack I'm known for getting deep in thoughts like a flashback Ran Reed'll guarantee your cash back if you ain't feeling this Since '86, I've been ill in this Holding down fort like Michael Jordan when he's on the court That's why your girl's giving me support I fill players up with hatred. Hot is how I make shit Mind-boggling, head-trembling, mental-earthquake shit If you want it, I supply that Try to imitate the flow, I wouldn't try that Penalty's a ban—get your tongue cut We'll castrate your ass, leave you left with one nut Trying to son what? But, son, who? Man, your one, two Ain't no match for mine, so relax, recline Play the back this time while I play the forefront I'm known for calming nerves like a raw blunt Take this to your head, what? [Interlude 2: Shabaam Sahdeeq and Ran Reed] Shabaam Sahdeeq: Uh. To you head, what? Ran Reed: Uh. F.O.D Shabaam Sahdeeq: To you head, what? Ran Reed: Nick Wiz [Verse 4: Shabaam Sahdeeq] I got it locked like first-floor gates on fire escapes You could mix this on your tapes, pass hoes, catch vapes Run right up in my face in a public place Invading my space. Even though she late, she never let me get A taste before. Now she offering a full course Her ass is soft, got on low, so now it's on I did it like the pros do, used the Pro Tool I'm no fool, wanted to hit it since high school But anyway, emcees are wack like flat soufflés Get blown away like toupees on windy Tuesdays My rhyme's tight like three size small, choking my balls Bumping beats in your hall, waking up all y'all But back to that trick. She could get a grip on my dick Trip on her clit, boning mad rappers and shit Clapping their shit, make it so they can't even piss I got the word from my man 'Bus she's a trife bitch Glad, I'll strap my vein for rugged terrain Bugging my brain, thugging insane. Fuck the fame [Verse 5: Sick Lyrical Damager] No doubt. Here we go once again SLD verbally representing Yo, when I start this, don't speak. You're limited like my Jeep Your ass is so trash that you'll get picked twice a week 'Cause what I'm pitching is soon to make me rich and higher Can't stand the heat? Then get that ass out the fire I'll burn you and, like those tables, I'ma turn you Now who's opposing? My shit is hot, yours is frozen I'm itching. I drop more shit than a bird With a stomach virus who gave it to a whole flock of pigeons I drop grammar on green like David Banner I'm ready to 'cause, when I fucking change, I'm incredible I'm telling you, "For me to lose a battle, it's a miracle" I'm lyrical. That's like a dead nigga fucking hearing you It won't happen. I'm getting dumber with the drummer I'm like the DMV—you want to see me? Take a number I'm getting richer 'cause every verse is a scripture And blew you out the frame. Fucking with me, you won't take the picture 'Cause I'm a terror. I drop in any weather I'll battle emcees in any time and any era Whatever. It really doesn't matter 'cause I had e- -nough of emcees climbing the charts without a ladder So start stepping. I'll grab the mic just like a weapon 'Cause we battle winner-first. With any verse, I'll end your career in a second For real, I write rhymes to make mills And with these million-dollar skills, I want those million-dollar deal Investment. No doubt. Shabaam Sahdeeq SLD, Boogie Down flavor, baby Word life [Interlude 3: Ran Reed] Yeah. Coming to you one more time for your motherfucking mind. Check it [Verse 6: Ran Reed] Ayyo, powers I possess'll make your shorty undress At my crib on the low, getting naughty and fresh Doing things you only dreamed of her doing. I'm that nigga She was screwing in your nightmares. The same cat Who drunk all your Miller Lite beers, the six pack You had waiting in your freezer. Left your toilet seat Up out of spite just to tease ya. Ran Reed got that hot Shit that'll please ya, hit you so hard You just might catch amnesia. Made your skull fracture Crept up unexpected. Wasn't looking, so I smacked ya Make room. My debut I'm 'bout to break soon Ran Reed on Jay Leno up next, so stay tuned Power moves—no doubt, I'm 'bout to take that And if you got a title, look out 'cause I'ma make that Making power moves with my trusty pal Get the plaques and the stacks—it's a must, we shall Shabaam Sahdeeq [Outro: Shabaam Sahdeeq and (Sick Lyrical Damager)] Sinister V's. Yeah, Ran Reed. Uh, SLD (No doubt). Yeah, yeah (Uh). Eddie Ill (Eddie Ills, y'all), D.L. Y'all know how we do. Might Mi. Yeah, yeah