(Chorus) Hardcore to make the brothers act fools (4x)
(PMD)
When I turn a party out, all hands is in the air
Some say it's chill, New York throw chairs
The punk funk sound to make a sane man flip
Girls rush the stage, faggots cold dip
Low to avoid the caps and blows
By the gangbanners at the B-boy shows
Wit the cops trying to control the crowd
But they can't, systems crank ";So What'cha
Saying";'s pumping loud
Blows are thrown, heads are flown like Pan Am
Brothers licking off like the son of Sam and
The bass continues to thump
Some brothers hit the parking lot to go pop trunks
Hoes are slapped, jewels are snatched
Brothers are caught in the cross fire without no
caps
And on my way out, I heard a sucker scream and shout
";Niggas, Niggas";, yea, cold turn the party out
Chorus
(E Double)
Rap combat squares sat and I attack
Any crab MC that's down wit the wack
And I wreck and if I can not snap a neck
Throw a knock, I'll blow and look for a tech
I'm terror, new edition to rap era
I can't be beat, I'm too sweet plus clever
I'm smart, yes, I'm a so called genius
I'm equip wit the thinking cap they call
?(Keenison)?
Yo, wit that, I can break fool
Especially when the posse is thick and got tools
