Scrilla Vic - Freestylin' Lyrics
Now I get Jimmy getting’ busy to the shake and the shimmyYour ladies one of those, Umm… ho’s I knowsMy old throws make the pros limp, wimper & simperAx your wood for good and then go yell “Timber!â€You kick the bobos like you got two left feetYour style is to the backI’ll send your ass straight to jump streetGoodness gracious! Great Balls of Fire!You’re burned again – here’s a bib – you’re served againStill beggin’ for a chance, but tricks don’t even glanceA diaper for your ass cuz when they come you shit your pantsThe V’s swing can make the church mute singBattaboom, battabing. Why you’re wife ain’t got her ring?Cuz on her honeymoon, I told your honey soon she’d get some of thatZooma zoom zoom in a boom boom!So when I see some skin, you know that I’m inTurn a trick like the table when “Do it, Do it, Do it!â€You’re once a month’s a wet dreamEven Janine said you bring it like a sight unseenTil you pass out – ass out – Damn, I think it’s funnyWhen I grab my baggies all the ladies, “Get Money!â€And tell they girlfriend, “That’s the one they’ve been waiting for!â€Pull out their bank and say, “Thanks! That’s the one I’ve been savin’for!â€So even though you know that I’m a young mackI’m never pullin’ out like your man, so don’t call it a comebackComin’ around the corner with a wickeder style - the latinoRakin’ in mo’ do than Gambino every coked snowDelirious, deceptive, demeanted – yeah, all thatPlay you so way back your whole crew be askin’ “Who dat?â€Blowin’ up the scene like frags from a pipe bombTo the break of dawn while you’re singin’ that sad songOnetimes dead wrong when he gave me the gasfaceWith his guise milk cartons say, “Missin’ without a traceâ€I’m bound to clock paps like folkloreSaw your man buyin’ lines from a local five and dime storeWhore. A penny for your thoughts or should I say your rhymesCuz they were saggin’ like your booty when you bought ‘emNot really into rock, but like a mountain topI keep risin’. It’s surprisin’ when I dew I hit the spotInstead of hittin’ home your rhymes totally swerveStinkin’ up shows like Siskel & EbertEquipped with the gift – smoke a sucka like a spliffGet wicked on the flex so double check – check it!I’m steadily steppin’, never trippin’, no nonsenseMy vertical rides the Utopian experience soMeenie Minnie Mo – catch a trick by the toeIf she hollers, yo I won’t let her goUnless she flickers like a strobelightBut with a whole stash hold things are gonna be alrightWith the latin buried treasureHon grab a hold but I ain’t only for your stearing pleasureThe no fakin’, title takin’, ….(Yawn) Oh, excuse me. Never keep the ladies waitin’Flexin’ Mex threat, but my name ain’t JoseCausin’ shockwaves like a room full of BoseSpeakers, beepers, yeah I got plentyHons on standby? Mmm, about twentySo I satisfy Pee Wee, While you’re sittin’ on the can with your hand playin’ “I Dream of Genieâ€You’re blue cheese technique gets thrown in the trunkThink you’re shit don’t stink, well you ain’t fakin’ the funkNow my lyrics are unsheathedRazor-sharp switchblades cleanly slicin’ underneath your sublimeI must be buggin’ out, But never crossin’ over or either sellin’ outI guess you want your vocals on my MemorexSheet! It only takes the flex of the indexTo run off a couple through your folliclesNo I won’t waste time. Yes, I’ll punch your chronological for talkin’ bullSo take a chill pill. Should I drill? Nah, just smack the enamel from your grillWhen it comes to droppin’ lyrics, I’m the man you can’t ***** witThose steppin’ raw get served like BisquickAnd you know with the flowSt. Ides provides the juice to get loose when I spar with the funkyrepertoire
