MIKE ZOOT

MIKE ZOOT - Service lyrics

rate me

(Wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga

wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga

wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...

Wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga

rhyming kills a raw beat...

Wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...

Wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga

rhyming kills a raw beat...)

Very special...

(Wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...)

May I help you?

You need some new shit, I'm here to bless you

Got a style all my own, I'm nothing like the next crew

Good afternoon, now after me there will be none

No continue, no part two

For would be contenders easily saw through

Your value over there now how dare you

Attempt to even act or appear to

Service amplifiers with no fire

Quite frankly I'm offended at how you professed your perfection

But never meant to go on, now peoples let's address it

Exactly how many times you buy an album

That leaves you even somewhat pleased, far too seldom

Thank you, hey yo welcome, I'm just a real deal's fan

I keep no feelings inside, that's how I ride, you know who I am

Distinctly, Mike Zoot, in the no-name suit

And the boots, classic butter, ever item under 50-loot

My fashion statement is basement

Brooklyn night crew with the lyrics you get laced with

A tasteless displays, un-cool, I just can't see them used

Ain't got no soul in there, no technique, no flair

I sabatoge your whole savoir-faire, as we go there

Let's take you to the air, get this whole thing clear

Til one rhyme reappear

I be the winner by unanimous decision on the system

A sound boy killum

I'm the good scientist turned evil villain, just chillin'

If it sound good in the flow it'll start illing

With the service and the lyrics, yo...

(Wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga

rhyming kills a raw beat...)

Straight service, cause uh...

(Wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...

Wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga

rhyming kills a raw beat...

Wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...)

Like for example

The other night around twelve thirty, or done

It was me and son, playing Tekken part one on Sony Playstation

We doing the all night bid up in the crib

I whooping his ass with this Bruce Lee looking kid

I'm using patterns and codes, catching high-tech rep

On tournament mode, damn near broke son's neck

Then he hit the reset, but fuck those, it was time for that underground

So I turned off the Sony and turned up the sounds

And now I don't recall the DJ, but none the less I'm checking it

Cause the last time I listened yo he played my favorite record

If the beats and rhymes is hectic god respect it

But nothing else can be accepted in my hip hop

Suddenly, my jaw dropped

From two bars of a bassline, then some more scratching

Followed by guitars some pianos, oooh that's banging

I had to say to myself, then I said out loud

Simply because it was the bomb I took the tape off pause

Quickly came the hi-hat on the snare, well mixed

Build up all in the background, 8-oh-8 kicks

All falling on place with the near perfect timing

Then before I know it some stupid nigga start rhyming

So I'm listening, trying to ignore the style he's stealing

Fake bob my head, I can't lie, I can't feel him

Must this happen every time, what's the dealin?

Appealing to the mass, rapper's ass all revealing can't last

So please repause that grass, it's fuckin' up my vibes

And my tape deck, the speakers, as well as the cassette

My accent, on access so hear this well

Ain't no dis, ain't no beef, ain't no gas, ain't no gel

It's just the beat was kinda stink, but the rhymes I couldn't smell

For bigger nose, and I was diggin those too, til the rhyming on the song

Now get rid of those, you rap real wrong

So now I'm forced to turn you off and turn the Tekken back on

(Wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga

rhyming kills a raw beat...)

Straight service in cause uh...

(Wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...

Wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga, wack nigga

rhyming kills a raw beat...

Wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...)

Word up... Service.

(Wack nigga rhyming kills a raw beat...)

Mike Zoot, EZ Elpee, GuessWhyld (we need the Service)

My man Collossal in the house

Ninteenth, every time, every year

Straight service on first...

Eleven...

Get this song at:  amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

Share your thoughts

0 Comments found