Freeway - Microphone Killa lyrics

rate me

<span class="feat">(feat. Young Chris)</span>

<i>[Intro - Freeway - talking - w/ ad libs]</i>

Woo! Free! Yeah, we in here

Uh huh, let's get 'em

<i>[Chorus - Freeway - w/ ad libs]</i>

Who am I?

Microphone killa, microphone killa, microphone killa

Swifter than a breeze, I will Swiss cheese emcees

<i>[Verse 1 - Freeway]</i>

Even though I got a short temper, had a long day

I will kill a tall nigga with a long K

Matter of fact I'm exactly what the song say

Mic killa, best flow-er, "that's what they all say"

Let me prove it to you, deliver the music to you

Raw and uncut bake, I'm not puttin any on it

Back, I put the city on it

East coast, head on my shoulders, put my fifty on it

All day, take it off just to rest

I'm not a sleeper, if a nigga try to creep me put the heater to his chest

Yes, bullets penetrate fresh

Tag him with the chrome, get blown like reefer

He tried to take flight, hit him right with the beam

Since I was a pre-teen been a microphone fiend

Had dreams to rock, then I signed with The Roc

It's still Roc for life, Rhymesayers is the team, yeah

<i>[Chorus - w/ ad libs]</i>

<i>[Verse 2 - Freeway]</i>

Find 'em all, line 'em up, pick 'em up

You say they got the sickest mouth, no doubt, grind 'em up, kick 'em out

That's one thing that they hate about me

I body emcees, send 'em back to they paper route

They say they can do without, stay without

Never in doubt, if I'm without, I gotta bring the lasers out

That's one thing that I hate about y'all

Whenever I floss, I always bring the haters out

Used to sling hard, bring the neighbors out

Now I throw yard parties, bring the neighbors out

Turntables out, one mic, one DJ, a couple guns

That's how we get it done, Jake One, Freeway

Do this with no delay, no doubt

They bang my records in the house and on the E-way

How you think I got the name Freeway? I move out

Listen, 20-20 vision couldn't see me, yeah

<i>[Chorus - w/ ad libs]</i>

<i>[Verse 3 - Young Chris]</i>

Microphone (Killa), no Cam'ron

Bomb like landmine, I don't ask shit, I demand mine

I take a little bit and expand mine

Grandson killin 'em grandma

Chest out, head high, until I'm a dead guy

I'm a shed light on all the lives I'm lead by

Examples of successful legends and historical presence

As I started reppin on Roc-A-Fella Records

A blessing in disguise, y'all fools ain't messin with these guys

Don't insult me, you messin with my pride

It'll cost you, dirty money niggaz'll off you

Pullin heat, throwin bullets deep, Randy Moss you

It ain't hard to, six feet deep is where they toss you

Detectives tell mommy that they lost you

Tell 'em Free, no women and kids

But we killin niggaz just like we kill these motherfuckin bars too

<i>[Chorus - w/ ad libs]</i>