Оригинален текст
* not 100% sure this is the MC's name
Chorus
We got them, Sledge, (?) ruff heads (check the flow)
King Tee's on the set (check the flow)
When try to get high-tech (check the flow)
The dialect's on the flex
Sledge
Watch this, when I shine I bring rain
Clouds, bust storms, yo, this ain't the norm
When I perform, I get you up out your seat
Get down with the real deal skills, then chill
Then show your as* how to get amped, then lamp
Stretch, flex, then tackle what's next
Cause MC's, that luck up, need to hush up
who can't brush up, on their rap style, shut the fk up
Then duck from the one that gets buck-wild
I chop your as* in half, with a smile
Big grin, all teeth, for those who got beef
fkin with me ock, you're six feet deep
Down in the ground, alone with no sound
while I'm up here CHILLIN, top billin
And illin, on all those, who oppose
I wanna take one more shot, strike a pose, uhh!
Chorus
King Tee
Smash, here comes the one that talks trash
to garbage MC's, who try to diss me
and my crew - the ill ville animal cannibal
backbreakers, government amputators
Bounce to this if you think you know the hits
And all you gassed-up critics, put the brakes on the s**t
Cause I'm tired of this, and I'm tired of that
Motherfkers sayin King Tee's s**t was wack
But in fact, my rhymes crack backs and make money stacks
by the truckload, now let's go for the gold
So strap on your seatbelt yo and let's go
And get down, to the sound that burns quick
Cause I'm about to burn rubber, on this number
and any MC who claims his style is legit
Suckers wanna try me? (I know not why Tee)
I light that as* up like the 4th of July G, uhh!
Chorus
T Check the flow, check the flow, check the flow yo
S Check the flow, check the flow, check the flow yo
T Check the flow, check the flow, check the flow yo
S Check the flow, check the flow, check the flow
Sledge
Capital S-L, crooked letter humpback fk that
thump that, s**t that's never wack
Cause this goes out too all the that we rushin
To hear the s**t I'm bustin over ruptured percussion
It ain't my fault that I'm layin down like asphault
and blow your as* away like chalk, dust
Then crush your monkey-ass unto the side
Cause wrecked dialect is causin lyrical genocide
King Tee
I stress facts like IRS wants tax
from anyone claimin that they're livin, kind of fat
You see, I could get sick in the thick of s**t
I turn my toes up, when it goes up, my foe's butt
Hey nigg* back-steps, even you can get hit
I'm more crankier than a b*tch on the s**t!
get heated cause they just got defeated
by the two man team, the Sledge and the King, uhh!
Chorus