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Masta Ace - Brooklyn Battles lyrics
Intro Mmm...yeah, that sound kinda ill...word...yeah... master ace in the Studio with my man marley marl, y’know... got dj clash in the House...and my dj, steady pace on the cut, right? [doin’ the rest] Right, so I’m about to get into somethin’ here... Verse 1 I’m master ace, from a place Or should I say borough Where they like the bass to be thorough With the kick of a mule And the click of a tool with no bullets In the clip, it’s the trick of a fool Cuz he who fronts gets blunts you can’t smoke To pull such stunts is no joke You better know where you are first Try to be rude and get chewed like a starburst Now how much juice you got? You couldn’t hang if I made a noose and knot Now try that on for size Too much baseball, too many apple pies Click your heels three times, kid And now you can see what my rhymes did Suckers and nerds come in herds just like cattle First I brand them, then I hand them a rattle So they can make a little noise in protest Those that fussed got bust wearin’ no vest I told that mc to go west Let’s see who can put on a show best The creep that tried to sleep got no rest I got a rap that can trap a slow pest Where’s your girl? she’s out on a hoe quest Fingernail tips, red lips, summer stroll dressed In a camisole she’s a pro blessed With a great big backside but no breasts Welcome to the fire pit I know some kids that wish you’d worn some flyer shit Cuz as soon as you stepped off the train They woulda put a big nine to your brain Be on the lookout, and yo, keep lookin’ Cuz there’s a battle goin’ on in brooklyn. Verse 2 Just like the water in a river flows, I’m fluid And as I do it, I deliver blows So mcs, you better keep your left up Try to fight and you might just get f’d up Cuz I’ll terminate, as you learn a great lesson Don’t ever try messin’ or you’ll earn a fate Worse than death cuz I’m here to give it to ya You got a life, but don’t know how to live it do ya? I live on a day-to-day basis Doin’ my shows in all kinds of places You sit home with a frowned-up grill Talkin’ ’bout who ya gonna kill Well listen up psychopath Put down the uzi, stop tryin’ to play shaft Cuz life ain’t a tv screen Bullets can puncture the skin, rupture the spleen And the stuff that flows out your veins ain’t ketchup Sit back, relax as I sketch up The scene on a brooklyn street on a late night It was a great fight to me I was just an innocent bystander Let me try and, uh, explain why I’d hand a Brother a big fat stick Well it was that, or get his black ass kicked See, it was five against one But this brother was too proud to run So he stood in like a trooper Fightin’ against all odds against a group of Brothers that looked the same way he looked, friend It was a battle in brooklyn. |
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