The Brooklyn Uptown Connection

Yeah 1-2, get ready Cause this is how we do it We got my man Soundwave in the house, Alien Nation To my nigga the low-down dirty drop-out from high school, Big Ill And me Mr. Raspy, Al Skratch To my nigga LIC representin Conspiracy Yeah Soundwave, break em off [ VERSE 1: Soundwave ] You say you never heard the Sound I'm about to break em off somethin right now Open up your mind and let me in Knock-knock, who speaks in the voice of sin? Must drop to your knees, please just listen A tale of four blackmen reminiscin I hover in the heavens like a celestial guardian The one who blocks the bullets when you're wildin out partyin Believe in the MC cause you can see me not Soundwave, faster than the dot on the Glock Non-stop cyber-funkin, let me tell you somethin Bout that guy named Al Skratch, the Mack Big Ill, LIC This is virtual reality A rap fantasy of the life of four beings Seen through the eyes of the one foreseeing Funkin em up, come on to the right I'm funkin em up, come on to the left The Uptown Connect gonna funk you to death [ VERSE 2: Al Skratch & Big Ill the Mack ] Who wanna fuck around, who wanna clown With two niggas from the Brooklyn Uptown underground Well, it's the backstabber, the double-crosssin alki Stagger as I'm babblin, so nigga please don't doubt me When I was ten they took my flick at the precint Back in the days I was a juvenile delinquent So don't fuck with me cause I'm psychotic I kick the hard shit and let my man get melodic Aiyo, I'm rollin, rollin, rollin I'll lump you up and leave you swollen The mic that I'm holdin is golden Patrollin straight out the fiery pits I turn a page as my diary gets Deeper, I see this Mack type figure, who is he? Bitches wanna know, so Ill get busy I got the latest news, ask Conny Chung Tu madre ( ? ) That means your mama wanna suck my dick, faggot The bitch is a ho so you know I'm gonna bag it We makin moves over funky fat grooves And to crews that don't paid dues we bad news So who wanna gangbang, tell me who can hang; slang Is what I kick, stay off my dick, chitty-bang-bang With the Glock you could swing on my block And I'll knock the shit out of your ass with the quick fast Who wanna fuck around, who wanna clown With two niggas from the Brooklyn Uptown underground Who wanna fuck around, who wanna clown With two niggas from the Brooklyn Uptown underground [ VERSE 3: LIC ] Here it is, steppin to my biz with the free flow steelo Headcrackin niggas like celo Comin from below the gutter, I'm quick with my cutter For a fronter tryin to front, word to mother On a microphone alone in a zone of danger With rhymes written on my bullets in a chamber Word up, you never heard of one murder one felon Bustin more slugs in thugs indulge in drug-sellin I stack greenbacks from the wizzacks Give up raw facts for niggas fakin jacks Rhymes come in all flavors, I'm makin crazy papers Cuttin suckers with razors in faces, beatin body cases LIC, I'm givin lashes, slashes Holdin classes, controllin masses, bustin asses Just when I put the ambush to spots Bustin my mics like Glocks, robbin niggas for they props The flow is on point, on target, sharp, accurate Lyrical gun clips I pack you with, then clap you with Rhyme after rhzzyme, time after time Like a career criminal committin crime after crime A gun-clapper ( ? ) type of rapper LIC, code name come-off-the-head master Flowin at a high velocity possibly MC's might snitch, call the cops on me But it's aight cause I got my peeps here with me LIC representin Conspiracy One love baby The Uptown connection Ill and Al Skratch And the whole muthafuckin crew I'm out