No Dancing

Stronghold & Ike P - Rap
No Dancing
3 Plays
Lyrics
[Intro: Poison Pen] Ike P. Cvees. This shit's called "No Dancing" [Verse 1: Ike P] Acknowledge the brolic middle polished on instrumentals My watchers get spots, so I'm not rocking a presidential But jaws can get yapped, so watch the shit you get into 'Cause you're fucking with the wrong one—you're finished in the long run [?] only had one son, but I walk the streets like an army As if I'm holding heat inside of the army But you wouldn't find none of that on me Just ten knuckles, two feet, and maybe a box cutter to get some blood on me I take my hostility out on a corny So if you looking for a profitable prospect, you got an employee Cvees, the convoy of the century Who ordered the industry whip, like threatening lyrics, then get at an enemy Spitting with enormous energy. A timeless classic, you rhymeless bastard I stay designing a smash hit I could get out of line mad quick and just bash it (Yeah!) With an aluminum bat—I'm the case out the basket, fucker [Hook: Ike P] This ain't a dance record This the type of shit to put you and your man in a trance so wanna act reckless Please understand we can spaz at any second We don't give a damn, leave you on the land breathless You need to take heed to the message Before it gets worse than words, all you herds will get disrespected Bust rains with insane methods Nut stains that get top in the range—all the gods intrepid [Verse 2: Ike P] I can't refrain from explaining the facts—it's just that Nowadays, I really can't trust rap At first, I did it for the love and that's just in my pockets, thought it was fine Can't rhyme while my stomach's touching my spine But now I'm spitting for them heavy duckers Fuck that other shit cats is kicking—in time, I'll have 'em kicking a bucket Kid, I did shows for limited budgets One still is one nigga that mad niggas out there can't even fuck with So let the truth be told—I'm living proof for the youth and the old I'm like a warm feeling that shoots through your soul But I'm not talking about emotions I'm more like some hot, flying objects piercing through your body from the shottie smoking The flow's got your hottie noses open Put the blows on a brother's skull with raps 'til their scalp opens My heart is cold like I'm in the outs with my coat open The dope cobra, shock you with pokes at a high voltage [Hook: Ike P] This ain't a dance record This the type of shit to put you and your man in a trance so wanna act reckless Please understand we can spaz at any second We don't give a damn, leave you on the land breathless You need to take heed to the message Before it gets worse than words, all you herds will get disrespected Bust rains with insane methods Nut stains that get top in the range [Verse 3: Ike P] Back in the days, I was on some shit when I spit But once the new millennium hit, my brain cells switched to Pentium chips Not only ahead of my time, but ahead of myself With every rhyme, I have no choice but to better myself My voice with music-blended brethren is bedlam 'Cause you're listening to a style that's relentless—every sentence is redrum Can't fuck with pigeons out for my breadcrumbs Unless they running for president—other than that, they don't get the dead ones And that's word on the heads of my sons I gotta be one of the hottest niggas in Harlem that's swift with the tongue You turn bitch like I'm gripping a gun Barrel in the palm, 'bout to do some harm to your cranium, dun I'm the one to blame for the drama—my momma calls me her prodigal son A product of the diabolical slums That's why the fool'll have you wiring gums—from getting jacked in the jaw Moses split the seas—I split emcees into four [Hook: Ike P] This ain't a dance record This the type of shit to put you and your man in a trance so wanna act reckless Please understand we can spaz at any second We don't give a damn, leave you on the land breathless You need to take heed to the message Before it gets worse than words, all you herds will get disrespected Bust rains with insane methods Nut stains that get top in the range
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Credits
- Writers
- Ike P