f/ Freddie Foxxx

(Keep it underground)
(Keep it underground, fuck that) --> Freddie Foxxx

[ VERSE 1: Mykill Miers ]
I beat you down like a glock when the cops say 'freeze!'
So put your hands in the air and drop to your knees
You beg me not to blast a paragraph in that ass
I murder the mass, cause I be killin it
When I'm fillin it
My adrenaline is like a drug
My lyric deliverance is like a slug
It penetrates your mug, puddles of blood
Excites me and entices me
To dislike MC's who be bitin me
Ever since the Wake Up
I been climbin the ladder like Jacob
But fools be faker than make-up
They careers I shake up
Crews I break up like chunks of weed
And you punks'll bleed if you fuck with me
Mentally deranged with visions of Jesse James
Leavin messy slain corpses on your porches
Of course the game is called rap, and the mic I call gat
Cause I be bustin at will, you know gats kill

[ CHORUS: Freddie Foxxx ]
So you wanna be a MC, huh?
Watch your mouth and don't offend me, hah!
You're fuckin with real niggas from hardcore grounds that carry burners
Mykill Miers and Bumpy Knucks, the money-earners

[ VERSE 2: Freddie Foxxx ]
It's been a minute since you heard the murderous raspy voice
Spit it at these fake niggas with no remorse
You frontin niggas never been in the streets, fuck up the game
How you live in the streets and don't know my name?
It's Bumpy Knucks, baby, Mr. Don't-Give-A-Fuck, baby
Mr. Twin Glocks all in your mouth, what's up, baby?
Heard you wanna be a MC and rhyme with the finest
Who resume is iller than mine is?
I design niggas like a toy maker, call me Jepetto
Spit around me, got fake niggas all over the ghetto
Better say your illest shit now, ride my dick later
Niggas still be quotin my verse from 'Hot Potato'
Blaze 'Money In The Bank', I killed em 'Ruff, Ruff'
Had niggas in the jailhouse screamin "So tuff!"
If that wasn't enough, just to shuffle through the list
If I had $100 for every nigga I ripped
I'd stack c-notes taller than the World Trade
I'm still eatin like you platinum niggas from flattenin niggas
Hardcore style crosses every boundary
Niggas that wanted hardcore jams, they found me
So Shyne, you ain't Biggie, Ja, you ain't Pac
Lot of niggas ain't Jay, and DMX ain't Fox
I wish niggas tried to play me and smile in my grill
You'd be the next nigga that I kill
It's Freddie Foxxx, baby

[ CHORUS ]

[ VERSE 3: Mykill Miers ]
Who's the next to get killed, cause I'm the best to get ill
MC's who ain't knowin, they be testin my skills
Cause they don't know the consequences, got MC's hoppin fences
Everytime I drop a sentence everybody stop and listen
They waitin for what I spit, MC's get dealt with
Went to trial for assault with a deadly felt-tipped
I spit hot lyrics to melt shit
Too hard to give me props, but I know you felt it
Can't help it
You get shot when the fifth's cocked
It's Mykill Miers, the Hitchcock of Hip-Hop
MC's they flip-flop from doin underground and pop shit
To sell records, but nobody cops it
MC's get drop-kicked when they talk shit
Every word I spit is toxic, I lock shit
The spot gets blown up when I show up
The rhymes I kick is so sick, it'll make you throw up

[ CHORUS ]

(Do you wanna be a MC)--> Common
(All these so-called players in the rap game)--> Jeru
(Tryina be down, but you can't be down)--> Run