You know it's ill It's the B-I-Z Markie With my man Chad Muska
Guaranteed to rock, like this Like, like, like this
[Screams]
I'm the humdinger, the microphone singer Super bell-ringer, here to bring ya The rhyme technique-a, the ill funk freak-a Coming right out of your speakers and never reaching the peak-a Perfection direction, in any section My style is kicking like Chinese Connection Most Valuable Poet, thirteen years strong The island of wrong is where I belong Superb like Goldberg, iller than Godzilla I scared Michael Jackson into writing a Thriller The ginger ale sipper, the freestyle flipper Never see me in a pair of Grand Union brown clippers Funk, what you should pony, down when I was bony One of the funkiest masters of ceremony Jam, jam, jimmity jam Let me, let me, let me, let me tell you who I am
[Hook] New York, you don't stop L.A., you can't stop Midwest, you won't stop Hey, that bodyrock
Gotta come all night long, well like my rap Want to get down, I'll make your hands clap Every time you see me I'll be doing my thing I'm Hello Fried King with the disco flow You know it's satisfaction guaranteed If you're messing with me, you will bleed Listen to me cause I'm the Original B e-e-e-e-e I, Z, M-A-R-K When it comes after fries, they're like this is what I'll say I'm like super duper dopin' open Rock the microphone, you'll be scopin' Killing the most, coast-to-coast in ya I wake up, eat cheese, eggs, and toast Guaranteed to rock, I don't got no children I just know that I've got to go
[Hook]
[Outro]Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
