Cleverness

[ VERSE 1: Passion ] I be the P-a-crooked letter-crooked letter -i-o-n, and it don't get no' better I be legit, like E-40 I'm sick wid it East meets West, I make it 'southernplayalistic' I be doin this without strugglin You wanna be down like me like Brandy I demand the phony MC to hand me The mic, I spark it up, I do whatever Wanna-be MC can get your style severed By this terrorist lyricist, you will believe Flinttown and Brooklyn, Passion and Mr. Breed Number one big ballers, player-haters get deceased Fuck peace and compromise, it's do-or-die in the East You don't wanna see Def Squad, we dangerous like Too $hort We burn mics like blunts and light the stage like Newports See, lyrical-I believe in eye for an eye And for them wack-ass niggas, see, I predict genocide The unfuckwittable MC, my golden touch be king like Midas The lyrical death certificate writer, my style's the tightest Step up and play it hard, and get your whole style scarred See, I be on Southern Avenue and Lindon Boulevard [ Chorus ] Cause I do this without strugglin When I bless this Many wish to be as crisp Never mind Cleverness Bitch (2x) [ VERSE 2: Chuck Nyce ] Young Chuck and I makin a come-up like throw up No luck, I been fusin, waitin to blow the fuck up Like napalm, back, legs and arms explode Like pipe bombs, so ring the alarm, it's on from dust to dawn Landmines and trip wire Cover my entire front lawn and four rottweilers Prowlin the premises, and hop the fence And get that ass crucified like Jesus, believe it I stays weeded and smokin MC's like seedless sativa Battle to travel through valleys of lost And dead MC's and never got defeated MC's retreated once the battlefields got heated My projectile heat-seeking missiles Check it, I'm settin it off and representin these Flint niggas Street gorillas, drug dealers, sushi dinners Sippin quart, I'm blue with a twisted lemon Weed, twisted swishers, we split it and fill it We fill it, lick it, then seal it Then lift it to your lip and ah - feel the effect [ Chorus ] [ VERSE 3: MC Breed ] Now this is bein done for you non-believers I'm bringin bats, bitch, machetes, gats and cleavers Now which one of y'all wanna come see the B-r-double I'm ridin, nigga, and you can run and ask T-Double I run sport like Berry, but big balls like Jerry And it's gon' take more than phone calls, nigga, to scare me My infrared got a date with your head And my beat'll getcha after I fill my clip with lead Bloodshed ain't shit to me, most of this shit is meant to be In an infested society, physically and mentally Follow through with basic instinct, nothin superstitious Many await your downfall, so clown all bitches I got my riches from the streets So when it comes to streets I get my eats, props to my peeps [ Chorus ] [ VERSE 4: Jamal ] Look, I beez Mally G the villain Kill your whole scene with the guillotine shotie Aim it at your body Look, I spit the lead till your bodyparts spread Now Passion got it, the red's dotted, spotted on your head Stand still, see the blood spill I ain't bullshittin, muthafucka, on the reals Run it, I got the gat, I'm about to gun it Son, it don't matter, I'm leavin your crew clueless like 'Whodunnit?' Fuck it, got me on some iller shit Bestow upon you the power to move, so I can blast, kill you, bitch Ask which ass MC's (fuck you trick-fleas) Claimin you real, that shit came with your deal I speak from the heart, freak tracks apart With insane lyricism - off the ism -atic auto-tactic the show flows Illadelphiadic, who the fuck want the static? [ Chorus ]