Das EFX - Rap scholar

Yeah yeah Who it is Son? Chorus: It's the rap scholar, here to make a dollar Try an' follow, guaranteed to make ya holler Check it out... everybody, everybody Chorus Verse One: Aiyyo my dogs hold heat, control the whole street And when it's time to bust, they don't get cold feet You know it's me, cause some say the boat rocker Big Mac not the Whopper, peace to Big Poppa The Showstopper, like Salt-N-Pepa, rhyme wrecka Friggidy-front on this, I won't letcha I better catch ya, stiggidy-straight out the blue Diggidy Das EFX, Redman, comin through We biggidy bubblin, like some bubb-ly, love-ly but what, trouble be, findin me, kid he cover me I, represent my ground, so yo what up now? Non-believers hatin what the fuck now? Bucktown kid, you can get struck down for that shit The mack spit, accurate, make your back split Sewer rats get a lotta, cheese like Ricotta The three man team, the rap scholars New York, everybody; Cali, everybody, c'mon Chorus D.C., everybody; overseas, everybody, c'mon Chorus Verse Two: Redman Aiyyo, it's the rap scholar, hot around the collar Pack a blaka-blaka, since I was a toddler Drama, the nine-seven nigga Madonna Reptile texture be the blood of an iguana Sick, dick about nine inch thick I make a fo'-twenty Benz-o look like a six First of the month I got the bundles for the wick My hands big as a catcher's mitt when I brick sucker MC's who did not learn If you don't this time, from coast to coast I'm the Dark Ranger, call me Don Punanna So hot, my chewing gum flavor's enchiladas You can tell, I don't give a fuck Deliver the cold to the place that shiver the erictor Fuck you and the ship you came on While you sit around bitchin I get my bangs on East coast, everybody; West coast, everybody, c'mon Chorus Up North, everybody; down South, everybody, c'mon Chorus Verse Three: Biggidy-Bingo, bangle, bust how the slang go Change up the angle, now who wanna tangle? Click-clack, get back, Dunn let me rip that Spit that, flip that, shit to push your wig back You showboatin, get your whole frame broken Found floatin, somewhere in Hoboken No jokin, jump out the Benz bubble Pull out the pound and bust a round in your huddle Spent a lot of ghetto days learnin ghetto ways; learn the ins and outs of ghetto trades still searchin for a better way Niggidy-never stress it though, keep it come and go Trust me if it's runnin low, my mic still the gunner yo Facin towards what's mine, so throw your hands in the air cause of the rhyme, auto-nine, up against your spine Blow your spot up, cause yo I gotta, get this Ricotta The three man team, the rap scholars New York, everybody; Cali, everybody, c'mon Chorus D.C., everybody; overseas, everybody, c'mon Chorus *fade out*