Lyrics
W. F. D. S.
Aiyyo, aiyyo check this out man
(Rock da spot)
Hah, aiyyo hah-hah
Aiyyo aiyyo, hah-hah
Nahnah, aiyyo, aiyyo
Damn, I’m the, bomb, ringing off all types alarms
My palms, be swift with the pen like Lynn Swann’s
Aggravated assault, against an MC
Beat him down with the mic and all types of pedigrees
It’s mad real in the Bricks, plus I roll thick
You can quote this, I’m the Moby Dick of dopeness
Bitch, walk the walk if you talk the talk
I DK New Jerz, and DK-New York
I don’t push a lot of vehicles, but I push a used one
With a tape deck, if it’s feasible
Tell the truth, I don’t own a Lex Coupe
But I get you souped when I rock respect due
I’s a nice nigga that wanna get diced
Slice the mic device like the body of Christ
Twice, E Double if you feel me hit me once
(A breaker one, a breaker two)
Cause trouble to you, family and friends
Let me cut the bullshit, just hand me yo ends
Got caught out there cause you were Mack without 10
Punch you in your chin, the rucker, bringer
Live from Hell but stay cooler than a double L Turn a felony to a misdemeanor
Now the court subpeonaed me to get my act cleaner
Fuck that, still walk out holdin' my strap, blood, grabbing my weiner
Rock da spot
Yo Now first of all I go for broke
Check the third quarter note, I make you feel like your water broke
Can’t tell whether male or female
I fucked up your frame well, the monogram can’t tell
All aboard my balls, cause my dick
Don’t got a lot of room for the rest of y’all
Grab on my pubics, let my music take flight
Rock indo and out-do', dick run in and out yo'
Bitch, about nine inch up the clit
Can you feel me comin, yeah I usually make 'em shit
I shines MC’s up for auction
So I can sell 'em on Saturday, Keith put the bat away
Let’s lay in the cut, so we can break his whole anatomy
Down and turn into an ass-kicking holiday
Word, I rolls with the Funklord
With more flavors than them motherfuckers on them Benetton
Billboards, he’s bleeding get the gauze
He shoulda' knew Def Squad crew is who I kill for
Push the clip in, slide the top back
Make sure it’s off safety, in case he wanna counteract
Shit like that get me vexed
So I crack your ass like corn while your bitch crack my Beck’s
Aiyyo, catch this picture, of me in the mixture
So you won’t forget the black Jack the Ripper
Sorceror offin y’all with techniques
A universal lingo, with the odd speaks
Control more blacks than Harlem week
Freak, smokin that leak at full peak
Peace to Greg Street, and underground radio technique
College radio, know I mack shit like Maceo
Yeah, the East coast West coast dick giver
I oughta' be an alkie, the way I hit liver
Deliver, the milk to your door
Real raw, shit you never seen before
So when you come inside, and do the front
Watch the double-pump shotgun and please don’t run
Relax your minds, let your conscience be free
And get money, and G’s and roll these trees
This is DJ Saywhat on this motherfucker
Coming to you live from WFDS radio from the Brick City