Mad Skillz

On the real, I freak techniques and beats in my sleep
The mack back in action show skills when I speak
Watch my - leak when I bring it to your face
I still corner dimes, but in the nine Im on a paper chase
Glass rocks, mega tops, Tims on your block
Holding heat like crock pots and keeping gs in my socks
(So, whats up, hopps?)
I got to keep it tight like seams
Cause aint no fiends
Coming in between me and my dreams
See what I mean, black?
I keep it real like that
F a "word is bond"
I need stocks and bonds from these ill raps
Rappers wont see me with contacts, friend
So, please act youve got a Siamese twin and think again
Cause in the end I start off with flavor
Next to bless your chest with freestyle fantasia
Smooth behavior
Seeing rappers as illusions
Meaning they disappear but Im hear to keep you moving
[chorus:]
Everybody, move ya body!
Everybody, move ya body!
Everybody, move ya body!
I dont think twice, kid
You know I bring it to ya live
[repeat]
See, I dont get writers block
Yo, I block other writers
And theres been nights I had to wear sniper attire for biters
Dont make that same mistake and get scarred, retard
I see that tape you listening to got you thinking that you hard
But dig this...
Cut your hair and get your name on your stomach
I still find ways to make your whole rap career plummet
Maintain
I steal mics out of the frame
But now people think they know me cause they know my real name
While I stay same
Doing shows and tours
Somewhere in a phat crib(?) playing Sega in the dashboard
Styles of sword(?) and flowing steadily
Trapping MCs in mazes forever like Frankie Beverly
You know the steeze
Im bringing beats to they knees
Holacausting MCs and sees some gs before I breath
Thats how it be
Its no doubt that I
Got to bring it to your chest as I bring it to ya live
[chorus]
So, from this point on until the day that they bury me
Ill still be on a hunt trying to snatch this currency
Putting my peeps on while friends turn fake
They get pissed thinking I be in Switzerland checking some real estate
Dropping LPs every year
Somewhere in a mansion with a butler named Vincent Jeffrey Belvadere
Im rare
But, rappers aint trying to hear
The reason why their girl freestyled her number in my ear
Its my year, son, and I aint trying to slip
Im trying to collect props and get not(?) to stretch money clips
Honey-dips
I keep em on like low end
So, f five-o
Illegal, so we dont got to go there
Its so unfair
How I do wack crews shady
They want to be next up
Their style sucks like a new baby
They cant faze me
Mics and man fusion
Beats I keep bruising
Do your thing and keep moving
[chorus]
[x2]
[ Move Ya Body Lyrics ]