Tru Master
Lyrics
Ladies and gentlemen
(I'd like to know)
Are you ready for star time?
(Yeah)
Okay, well let me kinda move these things around here, ya know
Ladies and gentlemen
I don't know what this is coming down through the audience
But look like it just came out of the basement (yeah)
Know what I'm sayin'? (Know what I'm sayin', know what I'm sayin')
(Thank you, because now)
Alright, let's bring to the stage
Yo, your highness, live from the bricks, one-six
Pete Rock, bang your head, break the drumsticks
Verbal assault, rhymes rippin' through the mix
Specialist, with the smash hits that can flip
Savagely attack this, clash with, accurate aim
Spark the flame, burn this and pop a vein
Ride tracks like the soul train, hold ya brain
In the state of shock, make 'em drop hits of cocaine
I bang with the big boys, those who hold name
Amateurs get hung with they own gold chains
I swing blades, best bring grenades against
A true master, way beyond your freshman attempts
Spit rounds on the floor, evidence of the war
It's on 'til the death 'til we settle the score
You can never measure, to the standard, of the most
Popular demanded, rap classics
Pop corks while the style knock your tops off
Ghetto summer jam's got the streets blocked off
Plots to knock me off get stopped short
Armed with my thoughts, move the world with an unknown force
Ayo, we had the bass pound speakers
Shell-toed Adidas (right)
Original rap with new school leaders (true)
Graffiti art names with fat gold chains
Shock the world, cousin (what), 'cause hip-hop remains
I'm a true master, you can check my credentials
Master in the MC field
Master, preacher, poet, a teacher
From the master, from the master
Yo, I drop jewels like hail, rap rides the third rail
Transmit def styles with sign language in braille (braille)
In hot pursuit of Donald Trump rap loot
Produce what you feel with navy seal mic troops
Sergeant S-P, slaughter, Pete Rock of Gibraltar
Miraculous lyrics that tread water
A rap nigga, show respect, write rhymes that connect
Collaborate, break bread with Kurupt and Deck
Keep my feet blessed, fresh with the Scottie Pippen's
In the game of life, I play all positions (Kurupt)
Stop look and listen, total package (uh)
Yes, a true master
Produce rhymes, singin' hits faster
The master of the game, solo artist by name
Paint the masterpiece that lies inside the frame
Pass with flying colors, the number one Soul Brother
All eyes on us, guard your grill and take cover
Ayo, we had the bass pound speakers
Shell-toed Adidas (uh-huh)
Original rap with new school leaders (true)
Graffiti art names with fat gold chains
Shock the world, cousin (what), 'cause hip-hop remains
I'm a true master, you can check my credentials
Master in the MC field
Master, preacher, poet, a teacher
From the master, from the master
I'm the epicenter of this natural disaster
I'm disastrous with stashes, cold and hot flashin'
Masters of self, a whole carload of explosives
Like Zorro, your host is
Death with the intellect from wizards to warlocks
I'm sore, Akh, I'm raw Akh with four Glocks, smallpox
More ways to get paid, more ways to display
More rhymes to say, more AK's to spray
God is good, growin' up in the hood
Done some things bad, done some things good
Me and Pete's like rhymes to chemicals, clash
Atom bombs to mustard gas
We hit the scene, I break ya, take ya to a whole difference scene
AR-15's and beams
Got 'em jumpin' like I swallowed a gang of jumpin' beans
Explode and reload, we dumps machines ('chines)
Radical in war, Kurupt's mad star
I'm a hard dog, raw dog, hog with the gold paw
Dogg Pound Gangstaz, DPG
I'm a Dogg Pound gangsta, DPG
I'm a Dogg Pound gangsta, DPG
Inspectah Deck and Kurupt and Pete Rock to drop the beat
Masters of art
Be the sharpest motherfucker
With the beats, with the rhymes
Check this out
Writer(s): James Brown, Peter O. Phillips
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Word Collections Publishing, Downtown Music Publishing, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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