Grab the Mic

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Masta Killa] Yeah, it's like salutation, greeting Ladies and gents, good evening I'm the speaker for the evening Get up out your chair, throw your hands in the air Have drinks on me, hit it slow, though Each dose, well potent Some particle, compound into one article The headline read, shall I proceed? Hell yeah, well let the turntable spin Like the chrome on the G wag' Benz, let's begin [Hook: Masta Killa] Aiyo, spit that shit, that make niggas wanna lick they Glock When I grab the microphone, I can't stop To drop that shit that make you get— Down on your face, with the gun to your— Ladies in the club, they fronting like— My brothers in the club, we tryna get "ahh" [Verse 2: Masta Killa] Look, another smash hit, my niggas from the boulevard East New York squad, in the yard getting ripped 'Least twenty five a clip, a hundred men stomp in ya face The wolves barking, careful, you might get trampled Caught flashing, wrap him in the masking tape Jimmy Basking, murder was the case when the crowd break fool Iron Mic Duel held down by the poolside Along came a spider, spun spools in a cypher Swinging on your mic, leads spray from the sawed off pipe Stenographer type, the ghetto hype slang, flow roll Like water off the brim when it rain Iron Maiden, checkmating, no escaping, we taking it [Hook] Aiyo, spit that shit, that make niggas wanna lick they Glock When I grab the microphone, I can't stop To drop that shit that make you get "ahh" Down on your face, with the gun to your— Ladies in the club, they fronting like— My brothers in the club, we tryna get "ahh" [Verse 3: Masta Killa] So terrifying, so electrifying Y'all niggas can't deny, it's so death defying Also, unique, it's so much heat On the turntable wax, when I speak on the beat One-two, throw it up, like you came to give it up Drop something in the collection cup, for the cause Of the sixteen bars, fast cars and jewellery Fine silk, Cantonese wine make the rhyme shine Bright on the seven continent Take it to the fullest extent Go anywhere, and live [Hook (snippet)] A-yo, spit that shit, that make niggas wanna lick they Glock When I grab the microphone, I can't stop To drop that shit that make you get "ahh" Down on your face, with the gun to your— [Break: Masta Killa] Yeah, P. Diddy, I know you dancing Crowd still moving, ladies grooving When the God show and proving [Outro: Masta Killa] Shit went something like that, I can't remember how that go.. Know what I mean?