The Cellar Session

Lyrics

Nick Wiz ft. Ran Reed ft. Native Assassins and Mad House - "The Cellar Session" [Emcee(s): Black Sun, Fatal, Shabaam Sahdeeq, Taz, and Ran Reed] [Producer(s): Nick Wiz] [Verse 1: Black Sun] Mass hysteria. More emcees? The merrier. Destroy you bastards like bacteria. Who Said I couldn't hit 'em where it hurts and leave A brother's body with more holes than [?]? Fuck The dumb shit you're speaking. It's reeking through my section No protection. My heart is blacker than my complexion Act like you know, motherfucker! Native Assassins pulling off the covers—rise And shine! Yeah right, no time for bullshitting Through the eyes of the dead, now the mind is forbidden You don't know me, you jive turkey. Nigga, you irk me I'm started, I'm cold-hearted—let the Lord have mercy [Verse 2: Fatal] Living just for the city, flexing with The flavor, the chairman of the Ill Skill Committee A hired hitman like Frank Nitti, not scared to get My hands dirty, so we could mix it up with the nitty-gritty My style is lethal, I got a "Wanted" tattooed on my back By the Board of Health [?] by the peoples of commonwealth Rip out your soul and leave you empty inside, the maniac Mortician filling emcees' corpses with formaldehyde Turning out your lights like you O.D.'d on pills For every emcee I slay, I mark their name on my butcher's bill Opening niggas up like a can. Niggas is Sweating my dick like an aerobics bitch's [?] [Bridge: Shabaam Sahdeeq and Black Sun] Shabaam the mic-wrecker! Shabaam the mic-wrecker! Shabaam the mic-wrecker! Shabaam the mic-wrecker! [Verse 3: Shabaam Sahdeeq] Sleep if you wanna. Fuck around? You'll be a goner 'cause I'm not the average nigga that be chilling on your corner I warned ya I wreck shit from here to California. East Coast representing, I don't wanna hear a sentence. No Repentance. Niggas think they're fly, but I'ma wreck 'em They're gone when I come to check 'em, but I'ma disrespect 'em Yeah, you pack a gat. I pack a gat and pack a party too And drop the bomb shit, then get with the fucking hottie too Open with the lotion of the back-and-forth motion. See, my Dick was inspiration, had her in a doggie situation My partner Taz got my back—word is bond So I could wreck shop, pass a mic, and move on. Ayyo It's on! I take 'em from the heart and then I dump 'em Lyrically, I'm holding niggas hostage with my shottie [Verse 4: Taz] Yo, I'm coming rough—can't you tell by the beat that's Kicking? Open up your mouth, yo—I'ma stick a fucking Brick in 'cause your ass popped too much shit—hah! Nigga, you don't know when to quit, so I thought I'd make a hit To let you know how the fuck it's going down Don't fuck around when I inhale buddha by the pound What you know about the shit that I kick? Yo, your chick is on the dick 'cause it sounds slick Yo, I'm the motherfucking rapper on the fucking block Pulling more bitches than that nigga [?] You better act like you fucking know—hah! Nope, this ain't Bell Biv DeVoe. It's that nigga that blow mad Buddha in the air 'cause I don't give a fuck I gotta give a pound to my main nigga Chuck You're down on your luck 'cause you're up against me The Corner Buddha Bandit. Niggas can't stand it Ayyo, I'm "Hittin' Switches" like Erick Sermon The 'fro is really curly, I don't sport no perming It's the Buddha Bandit—many know me. I'm a real one Bitches label me the fly, funky, fair one. Yo, around The fucking planet's where I troop 'em, scoop 'em Cough, fade away, caution, get blunted, then we group 'em I'm known to play a bitch if she's acting like a groupie, I'm A real Doggie Dogg like that real nigga Snoopy So pump this shit up 'cause we're jamming! Word to Jimmy Snuka I be damning if my shit ain't slamming I'm on some monster type shit like Billy Bixby Dig some shit up from the Mandrills back in The '60 [Verse 5: Ran Reed] Before a nigga's time, I know the flavor though If you're a jealous joker, do me a favor, yo Kiss these hairy-ass nuts 'cause I never gave Two flying fucks now that I'm making bucks, and I've come to realize you ain't nothing but the middleman Pussy-ass nigga talking 'bout, "What's up, little man?" You better recognize the size and strength I'll take it to your face, I'm booming like the bass So grab the Lysol, start spraying 'cause it's that In-between-the-toe-jam funk—that's the shit that's Playing. Let me chill like a freezer. I might catch A seizure, I thought that it's time I take a breather Psych! I never rest 'cause it's time to make the papes Every day, all day, I represent the flavor taste Yo, I'm strong just like the buddha I'm inhaling Your ass tried to get with [?], but you fell in So would you give it up? 'Cause your shit sounds trash Here comes another smash. Pass off the cash I represent the buddha and I paid mad dues, yo I'm bad news 'cause I wreck mad crews. Throw Your guns in the air if you know I make the fat shit That shoot-'em-up, bang, rat-a-tat shit. Yo, I kicks The flavor with [?] plus I flow with Fatal and Shabaam, my fucking fam booming with the band So what? What you wanna when we come for you? You better watch your back 'cause my crew don't slack