Mad Skillz - Move Ya Body
On the real, I freak techniques and beats in my sleep
The mack back in action show skills when I speak
Watch my - leak when I bring it to your face
I still corner dimes, but in the nine I’m on a paper chase
Glass rocks, mega tops, tims on your block
Holding heat like crock pots and keeping g’s in my socks
(so, what’s up, hopps? )
I got to keep it tight like seams
’cause ain’t no fiends
Coming in between me and my dreams
See what I mean, black?
I keep it real like that
F a word is bond
I need stocks and bonds from these ill raps
Rappers won’t see me with contacts, friend
So, please act you’ve got a siamese twin and think again
’cause in the end I start off with flavor
Next to bless your chest with freestyle fantasia
Smooth behavior
Seeing rappers as illusions
Meaning they disappear but I’m hear to keep you moving
Chorus:
Everybody, move ya body!
Everybody, move ya body!
Everybody, move ya body!
I don’t think twice, kid
You know I bring it to ya live
(repeat)
See, I don’t get writer’s block
Yo, I block other writers
And there’s been nights I had to wear sniper attire for biters
Don’t make that same mistake and get scarred, retard
I see that tape you listening to got you thinking that you hard
But dig this...
Cut your hair and get your name on your stomach
I still find ways to make your whole rap career plummet
Maintain
I steal mics out of the frame
But now people think they know me ’cause they know my real name
While I stay same
Doing shows and tours
Somewhere in a phat crib(? ) playing sega in the dashboard
Styles of sword(? ) and flowing steadily
Trapping mcs in mazes forever like frankie beverly
You know the steeze
I’m bringing beats to they knees
Holacausting mcs and sees some g’s before I breath
That’s how it be
It’s no doubt that i
Got to bring it to your chest as I bring it to ya live
Chorus
So, from this point on until the day that they bury me
I’ll still be on a hunt trying to snatch this currency
Putting my peeps on while friends turn fake
They get pissed thinking I be in switzerland checking some real estate
Dropping lps every year
Somewhere in a mansion with a butler named vincent jeffrey belvadere
I’m rare
But, rappers ain’t trying to hear
The reason why their girl freestyled her number in my ear
It’s my year, son, and I ain’t trying to slip
I’m trying to collect props and get not(? ) to stretch money clips
Honey-dips
I keep ’em on like low end
So, f five-o
Illegal, so we don’t got to go there
It’s so unfair
How I do wack crews shady
They want to be next up
Their style sucks like a new baby
They can’t faze me
Mics and man fusion
Beats I keep bruising
Do your thing and keep moving
Chorus
(repeat twice)