| 31 Bumrush |
| Intro: Tame One As Mellow Max passes the blunts to Skully We're about to come get nutty up in here Artifacts, nine-six tricks Sean J. with the beat Complete, with the Artifact techniques Verse One: Tame One I like to rip off mics and clock off dice that roll funny Gettin blunted off somebody's hoe money Honies beepin for me for cheese, ease back, please keep that weave intact Best believe that Tamer D'll be back Get the weed sacks relax, fuck a flick from Blockbuster I'ma touch ya, provin who got the bomb like Russia Friendly neighborhood rap hood, with goods could it be? Yes, no question (*DJ Kaos cuts "Tame One"*) Now let's start up the session Kick a rap out til I black out, check out when I wreck out throwin backs out, laughin out loud when niggaz crap out Me I want more G's than the LAPD from when I wrote my first rhyme in eighty-three With each speech released I reach mad blocks Analyzin more spots than Matlock Now I got this rappin shit on padlock You only half-rock, my shit returns like resurrections in religion, was fuckin with the fact we only bullshittin *DJ Kaos cuts and scratches "Yo El", "Sinister Brick City minister"* Verse Two: El Da Sensai, Tame One One two, yo Start takin notes, statin all quotes Niggaz couldn't see me through an optometrist scope Open, by the rhythm MC's that's hardest New Jerusalem, Artifacts be the oddest Main target, crews who think they bringin the news Who's this? Kickin in your Benz-y box crisp As long as the Boom Skwad is hearing me clear there ain't another rapper here that's gonna G this year (yeah) Lyric for lyric we exhibit mass appeal Stayin Real like Erick Sermon, drunk off the funk like it was bourbon Rollin up Big Willie like Suburban, Blazers make a wager Tamer blows up like a pager Makin you wake up early, tell your girlie turn my tape up Wait up, let me lace up the place like boots make loot, and Proceed to rock like Roots I tear the roof off, and when I fuck don't take my boots off I shoot from the lip, and make your nose glow like Rudolph You soft, so let me hit you off with all the hardness Artifacts shit, we got the hard shit regardless *DJ Kaos cuts "Punks pop junk, Tame and the Sensai leave em all beat"* Verse Three: El the Sensai Many ask how I be makin up my shit Like the format and how it don't match or fit I just, dig into the X-Files of styles Hittin while you're missin I'll prove that the child be on the different angles strangle those who wanna tangle With the, Flexi With the Technique ripper El the, Sensai what the men say in the back? Thinkin that we can't battle rap in combat Cease that, realize that the Facts don't mess around when we bless sounds down for any test So bring your nine and your vest Cause when you step to these men, your plan best to be correct Interject with intellect, each step steady Dissin those who pose with beef that's petty *DJ Kaos cuts "Who wanna battle? No one"* |