Dynomite (Going Postal)

{*scratched: "Dy-no-mite!"*} Just Blaaaaze! [Rhymefest] Wait hold the phone, muh'fucker pass the mic Spread the word like Pastor hype, this ain't mass but like We can congregate and mash tonight The boys in blue, I'll show you what the brass is like The perfect storm, like when disaster strike Or Knievel when he crashed his bike I'm the ashy type, like the knuckles on an inmate locked up 'Cept I stay on the grind, my "Blue Collar" popped up Blue collar rap, why I call it that? Shit I know more real niggas at U-Haul than hauled crack You ain't a stand up man? Well you fall and crawl back You a long distance thug, the fuck you call that? See - this is how a track should pound And if King was alive this is how he would sound "You a soft-ass nigga, you a mark, you a gump Fuckin lame, you a coward, you a punk, you a chuuump" [Hook] I'm the light, I'm the fuse, Rhyme-F-E-S-T I'm {*"Dy-no-mite!"*} Niggas runnin for cover from the fallin debris I'm {*"Dy-no-mite!"*} Explosive, nigga blowin up the streets I'm {*"Dy-no-mite!"*} I'm the keg, I'm the powder, I'm the fuse, I'm the lighter If it look like a fire I'm {*"Dy-no-mite!"*} [Rhymefest] You would never stand the challenge What the preacher preachin what the teacher taught I dropped out of school, stayed on the street and fought Like Disciples! Jeffrey Manor to be exact Where how you wear yo' hat made you prone to attack Made you, made you, made you go and get a strap And keep you bustin 'til your enemies was gone from the map Like a killer or a man or a giant when I stand Open my palm bitch, I got the world in my hand Got a gun and a plan, I got the bible and the Qu'ran I got a bomb like I live in Iran I got niggas to ride with me, hold me down in the street And deep down I wonder if they the beast, I mean I mean the police, the feds that police them street Get in the studio, then try to influence my speech Like a rat stool pigeon or a mark or a gump Fuckin lame, you a coward, you a punk, you a chump [Hook] [Rhymefest] You would sell your own momma for a piece of a crumb A piece of the crunk, that ain't even where you from Youse a follower (what~!) that's right, a fuckin follower Probably wearin a wire, so I don't even talk to ya You think these niggas is thugs, they officers Call the oficers, tell 'em get 'em officers, 'fore I show you 'Bout a killer or a man or a giant when I stand Open my palm bitch, I got the world in my hand Got a gun and a plan, I got the Torah and the Qu'ran I got your toddler in the back of a van I got a hostage and a list of demands, I gotta gotta 'bout a thousand dollars say you couldn't sit where I stand All these niggas that spit threats, hoes that get wet My style's runnin to the toilet, you ain't seen shit yet Yet, yet and still I keep it hot like Mexican meals I got a Cadillac stretch Deville I can show you how to flip for real Gangsters don't hold the rock, but they know how to flip it and chill Dime bag-ass niggas ain't large When the Patriot Act come hit they ass with the terrorist charge And we, is what they made it fo' You think it's all about Arabs? It's a war on the po', we gotta go Like a killer or a man or a giant when he stand Open your palm bitch, we got the world in our hand [Hook] {*explosion*}