Who's house? Run's house Once again my friend not a trend for then They said, rap was crap but never had this band Till the ruler came with a cooler
So here we go, now It be the Midnight Maurader on the scene Geographically earthed in a place called Queens I was formed with my principles, way I displayed When I used to cool
rough or we step in a mud hole, Things ain't changed, the game, hang up in a nigga pain, bang the nigga rain, hang wit tha killer clan, Straight out of
shadowboxing' Poisonous, poisonous (Word, word, word) I should slap all y'all niggaz for comin' In my fuckin' face with that shit Alright cool yeah,
, say yes or no One point five million Alright, you get what you want -- money's no object They're all clean, no serial numbers, untraceable And there are explosive head
I got u Matter fact, here take two Pits of flesh, political palm picked and gone Spooks with uz', ice picks, blades and tools Listen fool, the revolution is cool We leave clans
'all know what time it is, get 'em up (Right you are) You a true underground head You know what this mean right here baby This ain't motherfuckin' LL Cool
{Cool, okay, I'm a let y'all take it on your own, right now Why don't y'all do me a favor What? Tell me a joke Why did the chicken cross the road? To
the game as long as you can wheelie Schwinn Turn the corner spinnin', bust that ass and get up Dust off the mask, whoever laugh give him a head up He
Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap
Hey yo, check dis dope ass beat out Willie back in da muthafuckin house and I got my niggas Da menace clan on dis one to help me out And we representin
landlord, your fuckin rent due Chorus: Clans, posses, crews and kliks All y'all bitch niggaz can suck my dick Kliks, posses, crews and clans Can't none
crumbling to the ground And my grandfather's rolling Rolling in his grave If you had a tattoo, that wouldn't matter If you had a shaved head, that would be cool
It was cool in the fifties scattin' to jazz and be-bop It was the sound they were throwin' down From LA to New York and in every town And with the rhythm
meds higha dan Angel pon heaven's wire, Burn dem wit di hell's fyah, Wah prostitute and virgin have in common? Empire! Dem waan come inna mi bed fi cool
crideam Everytime you see me see me biggin up my teaming on the dream of winning trying to make crideam Thugged out even when you catch me in the cuisine my clan
him? No information, say yes or no One point five million Alright, you get what you want, money's no object They're all clean, no serial numbers, untraceable And there are explosive head