Step Up

Aw yeah! Right about now it's time to get busy Huh, straight out the box, nonstop Kurupt the Kingpin, Xzibit, Crooked I This is the art of, manslaughter When I'm rockin' I'm more shockin' than droppin' a boom box in bath water You entered the wrong scuffle You catchin' a chrome buckle I uppercut niggas hard enough to break my own knuckles Deliver the sick verbals My shotty spit a round, before you hit the ground Your body spin around, in six circles Diminishin' infamous menaces I'm waitin' to get dicced, if not, I'm a start finishin' innocents Lyrics (lyrics), I'm breezin the region Freezin g's in your legion Freakin' ancient techniques when I'm speakin' phoenician It's all about Crooked These bitches shout Crooked I'll make you say the West Coast ain't shit without Crooked I own a vicious label, niggas'll get disabled When I'm spittin' rhymes written on project kitchen tables I load this 4-5 and let slugs dive at ya Now that's for Crooked I, the scrap happy, mic snatcha Motherfuckers can you dig that, huh? Can you fuck with this? Let's get Kurupt the Kingpin to fuck y'all niggas up Y'all don't wanna see none of this west coast MC shit Yeah, how you like me now, motherfucker? Terror starts, in the midst of your heart, starts The storm, my vocals float like arks In the mystic state of mind, when I create a rhyme My microphone massacres every year the same time With audio amputations, vocal chords of a loud talker Up against the microphone night stalker With a tendency of bashing MCs, like ten of me As you can see I continue mashin' MCs, kaboom! The room gets cleared as my views get clearer Extra-terrestrial microphone terror In effect, get infected Tell me what the fuck you expected These venemous injections I leave whole sections, and sections full of injections From these poisonous melodies and selections I select the methods of slow anguish I mangle shit with my language Tell me, have you ever seen one elope With the microphone In a scandal like abilities to make MCs explode Baboom, alone in my own zone So don't compare me to none Not one's nearly Severe, 'cause I severely, impare MCs Near me, oppose and fear me, I got plots and theories Sincerely, I could have the spot locked Niggas get stoned for touching microphones With no knowledge on how to rock Yeah, back in effect, it don't stop Turn your speakers up, DJ Battlecat on the table We fuckin' it up like this and like that, yeah Got my homeboy Xzibit in the motherfuckin' house Alkaholiks! When I was enlisted, I came to the table double fisted Sadistic, heavy artillery, for all my enemies Bust shots up in the sky screamin' obsenities Make niggas sport khakis and chucks from here to Italy It'll be, a cold day in Hell when you see Xzibit fail Act like a bitch on bail, tuck tail and run See we do it how it can't be done I'm the rough cut, plus how the West was won Or direct descendant of the gatling gun Don't test me son, you fucc around and catch you one That ain't a threat, that's a promise I can definitely keep You can't compete with 25 niggas with heat in the street Ready to repeat, round after round at you All hell break lose when the whole Pound come through I found that you and yours, can never fuck with mine I own shit but Gimme Some More like Busta Rhymes Cross the line, now you gotta pay the piper I'm The Alkaholik sniper, that be keepin' the crowds hyper It's ashes to ashes and dust to dust Can't stop till me and my niggas is platinum plus My Dogg Kurupt Yeah, no shit Yeah, y'all can't fuck with that That's what I'm talkin' about West coast, we been doin' this shit for years Ain't nothin' happenin' wit' that Battlecat (Don't step up) Right, right (Don't step up, unless you wanna get hurt) Huh, huh, huh (Get get get get hurt) Whatcha say? Motherfuckers that be hangin' in the battle (Get hurt, get get get get hurt) That's what I'm talkin' about Daz Dillinger (Don't step up, unless you wanna get hurt) Break it down, break it down Huh Motherfuckers can't fade this shit