Ultra (Kool Keith Tim Dog) - NYC Street Corner Battle Lyrics

[thug] I told you this f*ckin guy man

Yo man, yo B, this is my f*ckin block, get the f*ck off



[Keith] Shut the f*ck up

You never had a f*ckin green card in your f*ckin life

You don't any means to make f*ckin money



[thug] What? What the f*ck you talkin bout mayn?



[Keith] You f*ckin stupid, plantella Adidas motherf*cker

[thug] Saturday Night Live, John Travolta ass motherf*cker

[Keith] Suck my dick

[thug] You f*ckin spaghetti and meatball eatin motherf*cker

[Keith] You don't have any f*ckin knowledge

[thug] F*ck you man, conio man, suck my dick man

[Keith] Little Italy ay, you don't know about the.. real estate man

[thug] F*ck you man, what the f*ck you wanna do mayn?

[thug] You wanna do somethin mayn? You wanna do somethin mayn?

[thug] Take this mayn {*POP* take this mayn {*POP*

[thug] Take this mayn {*POP POP* dead now!



[Tim Dog]

Here we go with some new shit, f*ck the bullshit

Bronx niggaz rule shit, cause we always pull quick, what?

Motherf*cker back up, you know whassup

Put two in your gut, POP POP what, now shut 'em up

Mad niggaz wanna have this, murderous status

I'm known as the motherf*ckin rhymin apparatus

The fattest, MC of the era, cause terror

Could niggaz f*ck with this?Never, but however

Many foes try to apprehend, they can't comprehend

Cause when they step to me they don't win

I bend, break MC's who fake the funk

Leavin wack rappers in the back of my truck

Then eat some rat poison and I drink some ammonia

Came out bein that gastric felonious

serial killer, that you know, as Kujo

F*ck around with Dog and get slammed like a sumo

"Waitin to Exhale" like Whitney, you can't get wit me

I wanna see that nigga from Uptown, who bit me

Bitin, never writin, that's not excitin

I'm invitin, all y'all suckers who like fightin

So come on, BRING IT ON, bring your weapon

No it's not rainin but you still gettin wettened

Smash your f*ckin ass like a Savage, I'm Randy

Niggaz don't want no beef cause I keep the tec handy

Shoot you from your head to your toe

You have so many holes in your shit it spells act like you know



[unknown female MC]

Well I thought you knew motherf*ckers..

Now take a second while I reveal myself into the industry

By smokin lyrical chokin teacher provokin MC

Clear the way for me, unique, delete the weak

As I defeat the claim to be sweet, by keepin it street

Lazy poet and I don't got to have them tactics to turn fake rappers

and crack addicts, tell the weak hit from my bomb shit

Ooooh! Damn, no stress or contest, the impossible

I stand on top of them, no doubt about it, I'm unstoppable

Got a train of focus, e'ry track I smoke this

Cannabis is nice, six I'm causin a ruckus

You can't f*ck with us, known for keepin it true

Not fakin the funk like bustaz, so what you gonna do?

I address, I'm better than fresh

Mo' potent than stress, now try to test, nigga!



[Kool Keith]

Yeah f*ck y'all motherf*ckers who need y'all whole album

to prove you got skills, suck this



I'm makin rappers load they apples pack up, move they wagons

My style like Bruce Lee, MC's walkin into the +Dragon+

My bald head super sharp, I walk like Telly Savales

Niggaz on a tightrope, they style is off balance

Hyper mental like Larry Davis on the instrumental

Rappers actin poodle, but I'ma drop the kennel

No threats; don't sleep on me you slept on Bernard Goetz

With a Berkowitz twist, your projects heard of this

My unique style retarded, kids smell the piss

With hand grenades I cut your rectum out with razor blades

Emergency please, gorillas bleedin through they knees

My style werewolf - AOWWWWWWWWWW!

I howl on your elevator, open your door, see you late

I drop sticks of dynamite, open your mailbox

Don't look for guns, I paid some crackheads for yo' glocks

Your style berback(?), lion tiger asscrack

No need to worry low prices call me Crazy Eddie

I put the head to sleep and send that brain to Betty

I'm outtie.. five thousand eight