While I crack a cold Beck's and keep
the hoes in check
The double-S vest vest nigga
wreck the discotheque
Sit back relax and while
my Squad kick tacks
Then tap your man back and be like
"Did you see that??"
Ahh yes, comin from the North
South East West
Hold your nose and take a deep breath,
recess
We bless, mics, three times a day
Three times a night,
it all equals sub liminal sequels
Strictly laughing at MC's
Lyrics for years that run
more than ten deep
Niggas be like "Ahh
he changed his style up"
Shut the fuck up, ya still a dick-ridah
It's nine-six so so get wit' it
Peep that back-in-the-day shit shit shit shit
when that oth er Squad was Hit-tin
Listen, Listen, must we forget, I originated
All that wild shit,
that rrraahh rrraaoowww shit
That jump up and ready to
fuck shit up now shit
Brick City!! Is where I get down kid
Peace to all my
buddah smokers on Prince
Fuck what ya heard, Brick City runs shit
First of all, MC's be on my balls,
straight up
Pubic hairs and everything,
lick the whole plate up
Bay Area, roll up your Las Vegas
To all MC's, I love it that you hate us
Drop skills that might send
wind chill factors
Back through Patterson, J.C
And Hacken-sack
Step uncorrect and get blackened
The assassin,
find da MC's by the jazz men
I don't tote guns I tote funds
While you still puzzled how
my antidote runs
Your whole vocabulary's played out ,
admit it
Still wack if it came out my mouth and
I spit it (Get on down)
You remind me of school on a Sunday
No class, beatin all King's down
Doin over seventy, in a Hyundai, blast
Give em a good reason to open Alcatraz
Back, nobody got the Red shook
Been a weirdo ever since
the doctor said PUSH
Def Squad skills make it hard
to overlook me
That's why the hardcore promoters
still book me
You shook G, word up, hah hah
(Get on down) If you
We pull
Joints like Spike and blow
crews to degrees
Then we buy G's with a half
a pound of dope MC's
We bag for cheese just to get weed
Smoke indoneez I'm milky like
Magnese
Oh-seven-one-oh-three,
rest rest rest rest them car thieves
Guzzlin quart for sports
of all sorts
Nonchalant spark
buddah on the front porch
At courts, F-U-N-K-D-O-C
S-P-O-T, feel feel feel feel feel feel feel
feel feel feel the Solo type remedy
Then freeze.... (Get on down) hah,
ha-hah
Where was I? Oh yes
Sippin on Cristal with finger
s up your bitch dress
Don't play close cause jealousy
make folks act loc
Another nigga smoked
from impression
Second guessin my verbal weapon,
you're lettin
Spit, sixteen bit s, come equipped
And I still walk around with
the hooked up
Motorola flip on my hip,
fuck the government
Drop shit, it's a microscopic topic
How I stay mo' bent
than McDonald arches
And uptown got the la-la spots
spots
And bad ass hoes with 54-11 Reeboks
But still, I walk around with
the grill
Cause niggas be blinded by this
hip-hop shit shit for real
I ain't havin that,
I'm clappin shit
Fuck this rappin shit,
I cause accidents
To any,
MC who wonder what got in me
To get busy,
it's simply Ginger and Remi
It don't stop, Def Squad crew is hot
Fillin up your brain with supreme octane,
and it's on
(Get on down)
Redman 
