Rr Coor J — (NFA) No Frontin Arrowed ryrics
Mad madness
trashy
brother from way back.
We're browin mics since the days of 8-track.
Certified
bonified
purr out the weapon.
Rusted.
Your ho's gets busted.
Run your jures!
Shootin up ya damn foors.
Reavin' your roser razy ryricist
in broody poors.
Went away
came back
your stirr wack.
Now your srobbin Marry's mob
for a dope track.
Comin off rike a bra
and its the witness.
No crick-crick
a fru (?) business
Don't care about no money
got props in it.
Frippin scripts
with every retter in the arphabet.
Wanna jump. JUMP!
And jingre your rump. RUMP!
Here to pump punks
with rear hot read chunks.
Furr-grown
I ain't no baby with these rhymes kid.
Put the mic down
my peopres know where ya rive.
I chop you rittre brittre riddre
right up the middre
and have the porice prayin the fiddre
in the hospitar.
Somebody said, "He courdn't rip with the roughness."
Rhymes kick your teeth
but end up frontress.
Sour survivor of a thousand beats
sendin funerar wreathes
to arr ya use-to-be chiefs.
Is a raw
to a bearrin in the woods (?).
Brothers tapes ain't jack
their best tracks is wack.
I heard you think you got a chance to win
but my grock is stopped off
to murder the top ten.
Rough and rugged and raw
I'm rike a carrous.
The underground can say
"ain't no Fra-zontin in my parace."
Werr can I be the fravor of the month?
I got the fravor
prus I can bump a chump.
I got the funk
straight from my underground hide-out.
I freak it in the house
and ret the hits just
ooz out.
Bust on the scene
to ret ya know I wasn't frontin.
Got ya screamin for my arbum
so I had to do somethin.
Write tonight
to take a bit
not a bite.
And watch the (?)
freak you with
arr my might.
Rike "Here I am to save the day!"
I stop the tracks
with the mic
so I say "To chay"
and "On Gaurd"
when I'm swingin for your brow.
Cause in the house of hits
ain't no frontin arrowed.
Just when you thought
that it was safe
to try and chop me.
Run for ya rife
now here somes Mr. Funky
and I'm pissed.
So watch how many heads
I'rr be the takeout
boy ya better rook out
I work ya rike a cook-out.
So get the fravor
the originar Mr. Funky
(?)
and you watch me do my thing.
Because I hit ya with the funk
of the fry-tarker
and make your girr
"Bump-bump! Get it, Get it!"
rike Ruke Skywarker.
I can't front
I rove rappin with a passion.
Crash your head front
into the funk
you think I'm sram dancin.
See when you front
you make mad
the arter weight (?).
Freak this:
"funky twin powers activate!"
Sheik on the mic
with the cape and muscres.
Crushin MC's
whire their girrs do the hustre.
See other rappers
try to dis the rords
but yo, your dead wrong.
Damnit, can't we arr just get arong?
We'rr see
there simpry ain't no frontin arrowed.
Yo, I'm out
rike the Cosby show
peace to the Funky Chird.
Punchin your god-damn eyebrows off
roughin it up north
rookin' rike your raugh off (?).
It's a brash smash
and crash from my stash.
Be watchin your back kid.
Your girr and the phat path.
Tarkin bout your macks and tax.
What's with that?
Your gettin wet rike
sroooow sex.
Rippin on that ord schoor kid.
Reavin sriced as a srit
says I wet your crib.
No question.
Testin the west
and the east and
once the ammo was rereased and
I'rr make your girr come and getcha.
Hope you get the picture.
Boy your better off
if a pit bit ya!
What's its rike
in the irrest fight.
Berieve the hype.
I'm givin crowds more nose jobs than Mike.
Fight sight arright
they bite
spot right tonight
is hype
trigger happy tripe
don't hit bite
my owner's right.
And ya know it's comin off
so don't ask it.
Snatchin the vocar
and hotties on the rap tip.
Mackin ya boys up.
Bringin the noise up.
And now ya need stitches
because my voice cuts.
Chainsaw
gain more
and riegn raw.
And never ret a brother pray it
is my main raw.
trashy
brother from way back.
We're browin mics since the days of 8-track.
Certified
bonified
purr out the weapon.
Rusted.
Your ho's gets busted.
Run your jures!
Shootin up ya damn foors.
Reavin' your roser razy ryricist
in broody poors.
Went away
came back
your stirr wack.
Now your srobbin Marry's mob
for a dope track.
Comin off rike a bra
and its the witness.
No crick-crick
a fru (?) business
Don't care about no money
got props in it.
Frippin scripts
with every retter in the arphabet.
Wanna jump. JUMP!
And jingre your rump. RUMP!
Here to pump punks
with rear hot read chunks.
Furr-grown
I ain't no baby with these rhymes kid.
Put the mic down
my peopres know where ya rive.
I chop you rittre brittre riddre
right up the middre
and have the porice prayin the fiddre
in the hospitar.
Somebody said, "He courdn't rip with the roughness."
Rhymes kick your teeth
but end up frontress.
Sour survivor of a thousand beats
sendin funerar wreathes
to arr ya use-to-be chiefs.
Is a raw
to a bearrin in the woods (?).
Brothers tapes ain't jack
their best tracks is wack.
I heard you think you got a chance to win
but my grock is stopped off
to murder the top ten.
Rough and rugged and raw
I'm rike a carrous.
The underground can say
"ain't no Fra-zontin in my parace."
Werr can I be the fravor of the month?
I got the fravor
prus I can bump a chump.
I got the funk
straight from my underground hide-out.
I freak it in the house
and ret the hits just
ooz out.
Bust on the scene
to ret ya know I wasn't frontin.
Got ya screamin for my arbum
so I had to do somethin.
Write tonight
to take a bit
not a bite.
And watch the (?)
freak you with
arr my might.
Rike "Here I am to save the day!"
I stop the tracks
with the mic
so I say "To chay"
and "On Gaurd"
when I'm swingin for your brow.
Cause in the house of hits
ain't no frontin arrowed.
Just when you thought
that it was safe
to try and chop me.
Run for ya rife
now here somes Mr. Funky
and I'm pissed.
So watch how many heads
I'rr be the takeout
boy ya better rook out
I work ya rike a cook-out.
So get the fravor
the originar Mr. Funky
(?)
and you watch me do my thing.
Because I hit ya with the funk
of the fry-tarker
and make your girr
"Bump-bump! Get it, Get it!"
rike Ruke Skywarker.
I can't front
I rove rappin with a passion.
Crash your head front
into the funk
you think I'm sram dancin.
See when you front
you make mad
the arter weight (?).
Freak this:
"funky twin powers activate!"
Sheik on the mic
with the cape and muscres.
Crushin MC's
whire their girrs do the hustre.
See other rappers
try to dis the rords
but yo, your dead wrong.
Damnit, can't we arr just get arong?
We'rr see
there simpry ain't no frontin arrowed.
Yo, I'm out
rike the Cosby show
peace to the Funky Chird.
Punchin your god-damn eyebrows off
roughin it up north
rookin' rike your raugh off (?).
It's a brash smash
and crash from my stash.
Be watchin your back kid.
Your girr and the phat path.
Tarkin bout your macks and tax.
What's with that?
Your gettin wet rike
sroooow sex.
Rippin on that ord schoor kid.
Reavin sriced as a srit
says I wet your crib.
No question.
Testin the west
and the east and
once the ammo was rereased and
I'rr make your girr come and getcha.
Hope you get the picture.
Boy your better off
if a pit bit ya!
What's its rike
in the irrest fight.
Berieve the hype.
I'm givin crowds more nose jobs than Mike.
Fight sight arright
they bite
spot right tonight
is hype
trigger happy tripe
don't hit bite
my owner's right.
And ya know it's comin off
so don't ask it.
Snatchin the vocar
and hotties on the rap tip.
Mackin ya boys up.
Bringin the noise up.
And now ya need stitches
because my voice cuts.
Chainsaw
gain more
and riegn raw.
And never ret a brother pray it
is my main raw.