Win the G

Lyrics

[Intro] Yooo! Welcome, welcome We're ready to toss it up, the first Hip-Hop Annual New York City and The Bronx [?] on the G contest There's four acts left So what we gon' do is we gon' break these four acts into two groups We gon' put these two sucka a- I mean, these two hip-hop niggas together Scramz and Hammerhead Joes Up against my nigga Bumpy Knucks and O.C (Yo, yo, it ain't fair, yo, these niggas is new niggas, man) Nigga, fuck fair, yo shit got to be sharp! (Aww, come on, man) It ain't about fair, yo shit got to be sharp! Oh shit, look at shawty with the red Ay, hol' on, don't smoke all this munk Aight, listen, ay, ay, ay, listen Oh shit, [?] before the police comes And pull the motherfucking plugs out the lamp, that's what we got to do So let's get this shit, ay Ay, ay, what we gon' do is We gon' need the DJ to give us a few jigga-jiggas So we can get this shit on the road, and get it started, y'knowhatI'msayin'? I'ma step to the side and smo- I mean, uh, talk to this bitch ONE, TWO (Set that shit off, nigga) [Hook: Bumpy Knuckles & O.C.] Yo, O.C., are you ready to win the G? The Gusto is coming home with me Yo, Bumpy Knucks, are you ready to win the G? The Gusto is coming home with me Yo, O.C., are you ready to win the G? The Gusto is coming home with me Yo, Bumpy Knucks, are you ready to win the G? The Gusto is coming home with me Coming home with me Coming home with me Coming home with me Ahhhh! [Verse 1: Bumpy Knuckles] Who got the hardest emcee style ever created? Who got celebrity status and is still underrated? Who got them two Glock nines that be black and nickel-plated? And I'll blow a nigga's chest out to keep me motivated My peripheral sees emcees that ain't nice with these So all my new rivalries'll be emcee robberies I got these niggas shook like Shake-N-Bake, cook like I knock your punk ass out, wake you up, and I show you what I look like Who's that emcee that thinks that he can fuck with F-R-E-D-D-I-E? Excuse me, Bumpy Knucks I don't give a fuck if it's friend or foe This shit is my job to let you niggas know, so don't take it personal When I stick this verse in you, I don't know what you gon' do Even if you get your crew, I'll walk through the stage Like it's Ho Stroll Avenue, tapping on them pockets Putting tabs on your revenue... now dig this It's mad niggas that be thinking they're nice with their flow It's mad niggas that be fronting like they're holding some dough It's mad niggas that'll challenge me, and, after the show They don't wanna be Players no mo', like Joe Niggas try to come at me with contemporary gangsta Fusion, I'm smashing with the simple shit I'm using Bashing and bruising, who's in charge? Bumpy! Step up in my face, I leave your forehead lumpy! [Hook: Bumpy Knuckles & O.C.] Yo, O.C., are you ready to win the G? The Gusto is coming home with me Yo, Bumpy Knucks, are you ready to win the G? The Gusto is coming home with me Yo, O.C., are you ready to win the G? The Gusto is coming home with me Yo, Bumpy Knucks, are you ready to win the G? The Gusto is coming home with me Coming home with me Coming home with me Coming home with me Ahhhh! [Verse 2: O.C. (Bumpy Knuckles)] I bring the pain like a slice to your vein, fuck your fame Platinum and gold plate don't hold no weight I be that prophetic soul-drainer Ain't a motherfucker in his right mind stepping in my cypher, tryna take mine From West Coast to East, I'm full-fledged Bust the science, niggas better know the ledge (Knowledge, boy) O see all, I G. off, Enemy? I spot you Two rhymes to my one verse, you go first, you're tasteless Face it, I engrave my name in the scalp Like Damien, out for world domination Don't get me wrong, I don't represent 6-6-6 figures I'm just out to make figures Who holds the threshold to be the best? I crunch niggas with my gold teeth like vegetables Carnivorous deliverance murder one nemesis Like a virgin, I snatch your innocence Talking bank robberies when you rhyme? Hold up You turn pussy on the mic when I roll up Coca-Cola, I fizz it like soda While you say "Butter", I'ma say, "Mazola" Money-folder, old a grudge, cold like a polar bear hug Niggas, what? Blowing up spots like a SCUD [Bridge: O.C. & Bumpy Knuckles] Win the G Win the G Win the G! Hahhhh! [Verse 3: Bumpy Knuckles] Who's that New York nigga left that be nice like be I? G.I. niggas can't see I, see, why You new popping niggas and you crew-hopping niggas Step up in my face, and Bumpy be 2Pac-ing niggas If it's bitch up in your heart, I'ma find it If you think I'm talking to you, then just rewind it I got six shots behind this Even with a vest on, you're yelling, because I aim for the melon I'm a felon, and I bet you never been in a fight Kinda like you really never said shit on this mic So if I diss a nigga hustling, that makes me a displayer And if you buy my record twice, that makes you a two-payer And if your girl like Donna Karan, that makes her a DK-er And 'cause I hate your punk ass, that don't make you no player Without this record business shit, you niggas is broke as fuck Smoking weed, smoking woolies while I smoke your luck And while your flow needs medical aid I just appear on niggas' shit and I still get paid Now where's my G, nigga? [Verse 4: O.C. (Bumpy Knuckles)] What niggas'll think they're made of steel and want to play brave? (UH!) Bitch MCs will find theirself in a grave (HUH!) I make slaves of niggas in ways never made (WHAT!) Voice like an Ox or, better yet, sharp as a blade (Ha-HAAA!) Intense the moment like sex when I'm boning (HUH) Iller than Caligula brainwashed the Romans I set it, let it be known: better beware, better be careful Who dared to oppose my phenomenal flows? How dare you? (UH!) I smite your ass quick, fast like Flash running past your ass Niggas'll end up with whiplash But for the moment, I'm zoning Any opponents, I'ma cut it short right now because this rap shit? We own it [Outro: Bumpy Knuckles] Come up off that cash, nigga