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Your silence is my trade Lockjaw,
shut up,
your silence is my trade
Givin' MC's lockjaw shut up,
your silence is my trade
Lockjaw, shut up, your silence is my trade
I'm givin' MC's lockjaw shut up
your silence is my trade
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Here we go, oh, no,
another flow show from the young black dynamo
Lockin' up jaws,
MC's pause no lyrical flaws
Hush, when the boss is talkin'
Lay down gats and get your
weak knees walkin'
You ain't allowed to speak 'cause
you've reached your peak
The Elite don't get with the weak, shut up,
'cause I'm burnin' this cut up
Boy, don't try to run up
'cause I chop up crops
A weak hip hop boy tried to jock
my spot and he flopped
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He went down to the concrete ground,
I'm a hound when I get down
And I'm back,
CCアプリでCコードの詳しいコード表をご覧ください。
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the mack with a lyrical knack
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To pack sacks and never pay tax,
and when I leave they diss me
Knowin' they can never get with me
But he who laughs last gets
the most cash
And lives the blast past of rap trash
Gone, left ya, son,
gimme a call when you're done
Run, run, run, your time is done, son
Move out for the well hung
young one
And I'm rackin' up stacks of greenbacks,
dead presidents, black
Peace to my fans and I love ya
and I got yo' cover
'Cause I'm back to please and cool
off the hot MC's
'Cause they're runnin' around like ants,
tryin' to grab their pants
That shit don't make you dance,
what's this beat doin'?
CCアプリでCコードの詳しいコード表をご覧ください。
アプリで開く AmAmアプリでAmコードの詳しいコード表をご覧ください。
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Leavin' your posse ruined
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Stuck my fist in his mouth caught
him on a whole shout
No pity on the lyrically weak face defeat,
retreat, but don't speak
'Cause I ain't through,
fool and you ain't true to the mix rules
You try to flow so you go
for what you know
But yo, bro, you ain't the flow pro,
oh, I can't go slow
Gotta grow 'cause I wanna
get mo' dough
Full blown, bad to the bone
And known to get it on with a microphone,
homes
Leave my throne alone,
I've been to the low zone
Your host on the coast is known to boast
And roast most that choose to get close
Put 'em in a lyrical knot,
my spot the number 1 slot
But I gotta have beats
When I lyrically de feat the
weak that try to compete
Get 'em up, if you wanna go head up,
What up? do as I instruct, black
'Cause my gat is jack backed
and lookin' at your baseball hat
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I rolled over that mess you stole
And took control,
and then broke the mold
Now here I stand,
boss man the northwest tip is where I am
And I'm runnin' this work like dope,
shippin' it in planes, trains and boats
Up the charts I go,
steppin' on toes and throwin' low bolos
My group is large,
and hard no need for a bodyguard
We flex, rippin' off MC's necks
run 'em into critical's pecs
Sir Mix-a-lot 
