Brotha Flava

We be sharp like them porcupines in the 610


Y'all bland like vanilla; I put the spices on 'em.
Y'all white like them bones, them bones. Gonna walk all over you.
You some sad stories, teardrop bitches. When I bet you be ghost.
You raskal-bound, like Q-Tip when he in the mire.
You sippin with your spiteful liver. Gonna get in the underground.
I'll put the cheese on you; make you my bird, feel me.
Them chickenheads around the block, I wears em out!

Man, you got clothes on!

Give me a beat, yo i be spittin truth:

The sky is big,
But not as big
baby as yo butt
its so big its so round
i wanna see you drop it down
like its hot
like its the bomb
when it hits the ground
the world goes:

round and round
uh!, feel me
( yo turn my mic up)
round and round
uh! feel me