Oh Yeah!

Yo, I'm from L I fella, vision had you tune into my figgida [Incomprehensible] Microphone to mobile holding mic's is so while I be just day dreamin' Drop for like, nine months and rock from backyards to fronts Who wants to live the gutter life, we got sidewalks to walk, baby I need a chick with big potatoes to mash, baby Hang like parachutes, I've been floatin' for years Too went from rapping in cars to rapping careers One beer, two beers, I got the gift like Santa I go from NY to DC and down to Atlanta Make you fly like propellors we be down in the cellar Well I guess you call the basement 'Cause that's where all the bass went When we turn it up a notch, old school like Ed Kotch Toss my foot up in the air and grab my crotch Who am I? Michael, keep the music on a cycle So we can finish up the flow within your fro, word out, word out This is called the frozen style Shatter your teeth style Freeze like the Artic style y'all Come on, check it out, I'm the P to the O to the S Known to pinpoint the flow to the chest So wear your vest, nibble the thighs and breast on Vanessa Had to sneak it 'cause her moms kept me under pressure Now as the sun appears to rise and set Some cats live for the hood 'cause it's as good as it gets But my plot is much thicker, I move it much quicker Three-hundred and sixty miles to the P H So I'm balanced, not a fella to fall Connecting the dots, I got two propellors in awe Went from ghetto to the meadow Seen all degrees of hot and froze when I was not Like lot, my lady threw salt in the game Invested cheese in the mouse who sent pork into fame Now, you hear my name being screamed on the ride of life It's too late to get of, to get off We in the house y'all, we in the house y'all We about to get evicted, there ain't no lights or liquid The bills ain't paid and last week we had a raid 'Cause we partied too much but that's my family's trade Invited all of my folks and yo all my folks stayed They tried to silence our shit, but we just pushed up the fade Sat back to charge a dollar, hadn't got paid And called on the band and got stupid when the keyboard played Keeping funky with the Propellerheads y'all Now, now listen, you see, I'm here to usher the pain with no relief But still get the, "Great Scotts, are you a thief?" Seems like you got a mouth full of gold" records Sorry for that, platinum plaque soon to come 'Til then propellor got me working the drum For a fee so notify the foe looking for the fumble I hear you want to rumble on the mic, so check it out How you want it, I got it, oh yeah