Freddie Foxxx
Devious Minds
Uh huh
Bring it back baby
Feel me on this...

[Verse One]
I can chop a beat like Funkmaster Flex
Challenge any MC's style, so who's next (uh, yeah)
I bring it ruff when I be rockin'
Even in the south my flow be boone dockin' (that's right)
Bumpy Knuckles makes the girls go crazy
Roll em like cee-lo, dice with me and Lazy
I got a appetite for the mic
Like a 450 pound n***a for chicken delight
Rappers are suspect, I got styles to dissect
Rappers wanna be actors, I direct (feel me)
I hate a biter laying in the cut
Listen to the lyrical styles and eat em up (check this)
I did a style and Tony Touch 50 MCs
N***as wanted to here me rock it way overseas
I said I'm so ill
Deaf n***as be dancin to my jams still
I spit shit dead n***as could feel
Stay in my zone to keep shit sellin
Rappers, fake gangsters, lying to the fans - I'm tellin
You wanna know if a n***a is real
Try to kick it with him, look him in his eyes
If he tell you that he gotta peel
See you can read em like that
That n***as not a dawg he's a mutherfuckin cat

[Hook: repeat 2X]
It's the Devious Minds that'll make em do these things
All you gotta do is rock and make the mics ring
Don't try to be somthin that your not my n***a
Or you might get your fakin ass shot my n***a

[Verse 2]
Check it out...
To the Beat ya'll I make it rock on and on
Like night time being around before morn' (check it out)
I rock on my own label just like The Artist
Without the high heel boots and no I'm not a live guitarist
Bitches enjoy my flow like good sex, then I hit
And Freddie Foxxx ain't gotta buy em shit
N***as be promisin' thomas's and givin out toasts
You can't get a bitch if your broke
Blow you n***as out like smoke
Everybody wanna rhyme
Is it for the love or the dimes (shit)
I know a n***a gotta eat, but at least you could keep the streets
And stop loopin up n***as beats
I'm sarcastic, shit I might spit
But don't mind me I'm just another MC
The only difference is I scrap for mines
And don't ride another n***a's lap for mines
It's about beats and rhymes
You n***as better get it together
Before I bring it to you n***a, whatever

[Hook]

[Verse Three]
Can I get digible for a minute and rock the spot
I be to rap what clip be to Glock
Cause I'mma fool like that, I flip like Dominique Dawes
I wouldn't mind gettin inside dem draws
N***as are fake like radio drops in Hip-Hop
It's kinda like wrestling and jumpin off the top -
Rope, You Jesse Jackson ass n***as with hope
Got n***as in the audience sick offa bad dope
You n***as need Beatminerz
So you can stop serving up bland ass beats like the Greek diner
Check this, it gets exotic, chaotic
Idiotic, n***as bout it bout it
I got history, B
I done rocked with everybody from G Rap to M.O.P
The Blast Master, did 'Hot Potato' with Treach
Even rocked with Pac... but you ain't herd that yet
N***as be screamin that they real
Yeah, real bitch, real soft, knock you smooth off
I like big butt bitches and hot cars
And never have ta give a bitch a diamond
Cause I'm nice with my rhymin'
Thug n***as in the house
Snatch up every coward that you see and throw his fuckin ass out

[Hook]

[During Final Hook]
Real n***as
This goes out to
My n***as Gang Starr
My n***as Beatminerz
For my n***as M.O.P
Check it out
Whaddup Kurupt Mob
For underground N***as

Philly