[Intro]
Be the man on the street, he's around the corner, yeah!
Yeah, you don't have to play this on a Tuesday night
But check this out, this is Sunday morning in church!
With the brother, the Godfather
Open up the testaments, and let us read this
This ain't no flint stone and no bedrock type stuff, check it out
[Hook]
Check out my style, return to zero
Check out my style, return to zero
Check out my style, return to zero
Check out my style, return to zero
[Verse 1: Kool Keith]
Well I keep my style and tone, on my jivin' microphone
Mik-make my flows, show a rapper what I give them
Don't flex funky yo, kick it honey step back
Watch when I come, you scratch that kitty-kat on top of that
Rappers know I'm X, slow down, watch me get stupid open
Dance for the ladies, I strip in Chippendale's
Funky hypo, or technical, lyrics make computer
With a brain that spins like Kid Capri, 33
Drop a 45 down just like the first record rotate
My style, my rhyme, my game is droppin doo-doo lyrics
Make a brother say, "Keith is out? Damn, I wanna hear it"
Buy a copy tomorrow, kick his old tape
Take it back two times to smack his girl, let him go
Tell his uncle brother aunt and Cousin Belle (Ding-Dong!)
As I rock so well, spanki'n tail, check the beats
My style is so early, you couldn't catch it on Bobbito
As I flaunt and I stretch just like a rubber band—poppin'!
Stoppin every rapper like a trooper on a turnpike
I'm long and strong and just like the Lincoln Tunnel
'Father, big up, check it out
Back back, I switch switch, I check check, I know that
Bored as I kick up, you proud of me you know it's me
I got more muscle to flex to show than Jodeci
Take off them panties, I turn Boyz II Men
[Hook]
Check out my style, return to zero
Check out my style, return to zero
Check out my style, return to zero
Check out my style, return to zero
[Verse 2: Godfather Don]
I'm wicked to the max, tax, corner blood from your sister
My wish 'em well 'cause I give 'em hell
Don't sell, so guess I miss 'em
Don't lead the charge, populating what I can create
I use 'em, my use 'em breaks, so you can take your beat and shove it
'Cause I love it when emcee ass predators try to get a metaphor
To make no-hits, show you it's too rough-kid
The super centrifugal, Don metaphysical, many time [?], your [?] where my rhyme goes
It's harder to find those, jazz breaks, keeps
Where he can listen it, from long time, no air from
Don't let me help you earn some
First you ought to have the skills to pay the bills
Make sure, it's real, don't cop-y my tech-nique
Don't try to steal, my deal piece
To papi, to amigo, school [?]
Yo IT, know the beat, bro achieve
Close the weed, [?] speak
Those ray peaks, shows they got left
Like tea though, they can't go where I go
I break 'em like chi, go
Stick pick, bitch, change the beat to a S
So you like the sound, you can't best [?]
Don't try to undress, my grey mannequins
'Cause like the madder B, I get better buzz
Bullet purple poison surfing, up a tempo
Tricky solo plexus, I cast a next and want no more [?]
Better blues and blacks, from the incredible, rap stack
Don't pass the lack a lack, lick a track attack
Battle babe, Ross's been thinking have a tad of that[?], yeah
Go east west, to make a damn champ and profile
Operate inf, I warm and call it no style
[?], [?], Select, then I play 'em
Electrocute an A when I slay 'em
I'm sticking to mad niggers who rob me of my style
I'm bucking 'em up in the face, and throwing them in the POW, yeah
[Hook]
Check out my style, return to zero
Check out my style, return to zero
Check out my style, return to zero
Check out my style, return to zero
