Art of facts - lp dirty version

Paroles de la chanson Art Of Facts (lp Dirty) :

Intro: Tame One



As Mellow Max passes the blunts to Skully



We're about to come get nutty up in here



Artifacts, nine-six tricks



Sean J. with the beat



Complete, with the Artifact techniques



Verse One: Tame One

I like to rip off mics and clock off dice that roll funny



Gettin blunted off somebody's hoe money



Honies beepin for me for cheese, ease back, please keep that weave



Intact



Best believe that Tamer D'll be back



Get the weed sacks relax, fuck a flick from Blockbuster



I'ma touch ya, provin who got the bomb like Russia



Friendly neighborhood rap hood, with goods



Could it be? Yes, no question



(*DJ Kaos cuts "Tame One"*) Now let's start up the session



Kick a rap out til I black out, check out when I wreck out



Throwin backs out, laughin out loud when n***as crap out



Me I want more G's than the LAPD



From when I wrote my first rhyme in eighty-three



With each speech released I reach mad blocks



Analyzin more spots than Matlock



Now I got this rappin shit on padlock



You only half-rock, my shit returns like resurrections



In religion, was fuckin with the fact we only bullshittin



*DJ Kaos cuts and scratches "Yo El", "Sinister Brick City minister"*



Verse Two: El Da Sensai, Tame One

One two, yo



Start takin notes, statin all quotes



N***as couldn't see me through an optometrist scope



Open, by the rhythm MC's that's hardest



New Jerusalem, Artifacts be the oddest



Main target, crews who think they bringin the news



Who's this? Kickin in your Benz-y box crisp



As long as the Boom Skwad is hearing me clear



There ain't another rapper here that's gonna G this year (yeah)



Lyric for lyric we exhibit mass appeal



Stayin Real like Erick Sermon, drunk off the funk like it was bourbon



Rollin up Big Willie like Suburban, Blazers make a wager



Tamer blows up like a pager



Makin you wake up early, tell your girlie turn my tape up



Wait up, let me lace up the place like boots



Make loot, and Proceed to rock like Roots



I tear the roof off, and when I fuck don't take my boots off



I shoot from the lip, and make your nose glow like Rudolph



You soft, so let me hit you off with all the hardness



Artifacts shit, we got the hard shit regardless



*DJ Kaos cuts "Punks pop junk, Tame and the Sensai leave em all beat"*



Verse Three: El the Sensai

Many ask how I be makin up my shit



Like the format and how it don't match or fit



I just, dig into the X-Files of styles



Hittin while you're missin I'll prove that the child



Be on the different angles strangle those who wanna tangle



With the, Flexi With the Technique ripper



El the, Sensai what the men say in the back?



Thinkin that we can't battle rap in combat



Cease that, realize that the Facts don't mess



Around when we bless sounds down for any test



So bring your nine and your vest



Cause when you step to these men, your plan best to be correct



Interject with intellect, each step steady



Dissin those who pose with beef that's petty



*DJ Kaos cuts "Who wanna battle? No one