Sicilian Spit
02-06-09, 05:26 AM
Took the beat from B-Legit's "Block 4 Life" featuring Jadakiss, Styles P, and Clyde Carson. I call it "Mic For Life." Second link is the original version for those of you that haven't heard it. This is what we in the Bay would call a slapper.
http://www.zshare.net/audio/5518483321ad4719/#
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yxEbMch_Lfw
(Hook)
I could tell that you wanna come get me I could see you ear-checkin the flow
From P-Town to B-Town all the way the The Town but I'm here reppin the Sco
Street slanger, speak anger beat banger, eyyy
Heat dangerous, cheefin on a bag of haze
Hard ether, narc breather with a zag to blaze
Cuz I be on the mic for life
A lame b*tch say I'm not hot I bust on him
Let the microphone combust on him
Sorta like Mike Tyson with these b*tches when I bust on chins
Want triplets so I brush off twins
Blowin kush, no stems, I'm hittin more greens than Eldrick
Motherfu*ckin Woods, so motherf*ckin hood
So clean, give the whole team ya cell, b*tch
Take motherf*ckin wood like your mother, understood?
Paul Bunyan in these parts the way I'm breakin up trees
Steady shakin these fleas, gotta ancient disease
So ill with the pencil you could feel the utensil
Fill you veins with led, till your brain is dead
You can't feign my spread, I'm so butter on a beat
Gutter on the street, never stutter when I speak
Got you all nice and lifted, so vicious and thirsty
Call me twice as gifted cuz Christmas my birthday
(Hook)
Got speakers right behind me
And up on this mic is where you might find me
Starin down a FDR — yea, a dimepiece
They seein just how def-we-are, one at a time please
Yea, she wanna f*ck a Sicilian civilian wit millions that rock the pavilion
I'm thrillin, instillin these jockin Brazilians
To get filled with the drill till my stock hits a billion
Smoke white trees that gleam like ice, I be on the mic for life
Yea, we so hyphy, whole team is nice, I be on the mic for life
Eyy, you tryna locate the Don, you could find me on the mic for life
Yea man, we tryna blow grapes till dawn, stay grimy on the mic for life
(Hook)
On the mic, rockin it like Rakim
Chock-a-block with toxin when you bring the knock in
Spit anthrax over hundred grand tracks
All over California like I'm f*ckin Amtrak
Motherf*cker stand back, just tryna do my duty, yo
All up in the studio, off the Don Julio
I'm the Don truly though, tryna let my gouda grow
Let the Buddha blow, hit 'em wit a barracuda flow
Pack a mean bite, I mack a queen right
Attack the scene with five stacks — obscene sights
In between nights out I scribble thug poetry
Squash any pointless little quibble mugs throw at me
Go toe-to-toe with me, go blow-to-blow with me
Either in a fisticuffs or breakin down and twistin blunts
Yea, sorta like you pitch to bunts
I stay high and tight, aim right with high precision guns
(Hook)
http://www.zshare.net/audio/5518483321ad4719/#
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yxEbMch_Lfw
(Hook)
I could tell that you wanna come get me I could see you ear-checkin the flow
From P-Town to B-Town all the way the The Town but I'm here reppin the Sco
Street slanger, speak anger beat banger, eyyy
Heat dangerous, cheefin on a bag of haze
Hard ether, narc breather with a zag to blaze
Cuz I be on the mic for life
A lame b*tch say I'm not hot I bust on him
Let the microphone combust on him
Sorta like Mike Tyson with these b*tches when I bust on chins
Want triplets so I brush off twins
Blowin kush, no stems, I'm hittin more greens than Eldrick
Motherfu*ckin Woods, so motherf*ckin hood
So clean, give the whole team ya cell, b*tch
Take motherf*ckin wood like your mother, understood?
Paul Bunyan in these parts the way I'm breakin up trees
Steady shakin these fleas, gotta ancient disease
So ill with the pencil you could feel the utensil
Fill you veins with led, till your brain is dead
You can't feign my spread, I'm so butter on a beat
Gutter on the street, never stutter when I speak
Got you all nice and lifted, so vicious and thirsty
Call me twice as gifted cuz Christmas my birthday
(Hook)
Got speakers right behind me
And up on this mic is where you might find me
Starin down a FDR — yea, a dimepiece
They seein just how def-we-are, one at a time please
Yea, she wanna f*ck a Sicilian civilian wit millions that rock the pavilion
I'm thrillin, instillin these jockin Brazilians
To get filled with the drill till my stock hits a billion
Smoke white trees that gleam like ice, I be on the mic for life
Yea, we so hyphy, whole team is nice, I be on the mic for life
Eyy, you tryna locate the Don, you could find me on the mic for life
Yea man, we tryna blow grapes till dawn, stay grimy on the mic for life
(Hook)
On the mic, rockin it like Rakim
Chock-a-block with toxin when you bring the knock in
Spit anthrax over hundred grand tracks
All over California like I'm f*ckin Amtrak
Motherf*cker stand back, just tryna do my duty, yo
All up in the studio, off the Don Julio
I'm the Don truly though, tryna let my gouda grow
Let the Buddha blow, hit 'em wit a barracuda flow
Pack a mean bite, I mack a queen right
Attack the scene with five stacks — obscene sights
In between nights out I scribble thug poetry
Squash any pointless little quibble mugs throw at me
Go toe-to-toe with me, go blow-to-blow with me
Either in a fisticuffs or breakin down and twistin blunts
Yea, sorta like you pitch to bunts
I stay high and tight, aim right with high precision guns
(Hook)