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Yes, something of a different pace Fresh, it's a '97 made taste Now, I believe the time is right How, step it from the left to the right so Get, ready for the rhythm in check Direct, believe me you ain't heard nothing yet I Will, volunteer my lyrical skill Until, the score reaches fifty nil go Deep, right into the middle of the beat it stays Sweet, in every way, seven days a week Untied, give this to you line by line The source is the power of the force in the rhyme it's New, structure of this hour I'm paving Go twice around the world and still keep on saving Panic, some get confused and can't shake they feel Static, built up by the charge in the break I can't Have it, I need true spirit representers a Skilled, ever ready strong team of inventors and I got That, that's why my beat sounds so pure this is the Format, something you never heard before. Do you think that you can hold on When the beat gets too strong and you feel that you need help to move along? Do you think that you can hang tough When the rhythm gets rough and the DJ says "I think you've had enough"? Do you think that you can digest When I start to digress better get yourself a lyric-proof vest Do you think that you can compete When you hear the fat beat you need stamina like an athlete Unique, continue the future technique to full Heat, let the microphone burn when I speak Alright, now we're getting into this sound Pick it up, shake it up, turn it upside-down. |
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