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All of the d.j.s surely have taken a lesson

Start talkin trash and we'll come with my smith & wesson

A little competition comes my way but it always winds up the same,

"the stone that the builder refuse shall be the head cornerstone"



Ain't nothin wrong, ain't nothing right

But still I set and lie awake all night

All of the d.j.s surely have taken a lesson

Try talkin trash and we'll come with a smith & wesson



Enough d.j.s come with enough style

but when I bus my lyrics we all Know it's wicked-wily.

Ain't nothin wrong, ain't nothing right

But still I set and lie awake all night



You better strap with the gat

If you wanna walk with me, bound to come down

With the new stylee, rockin rubadub know as reggae music

Gotta come down with some new lyrics

It just ain't nothing, it's been a real long time



Ain't nothin wrong, ain't nothing right

But still I set and lie awake all night

Rubadub blender a new mixer

I am the one with d.j. with enough flavor

Hear the dub and say lord have his grilled cheese.

I ain't Jamaican, but I ain't no freak

Caught the man eno with the one pound bag o' tweak

And called him ghost rider everytime you see him he fulfill the danger



Ain't nothin wrong, ain't nothing right

But still I set and lie awake all night

Dred gotta a job to do and he might fulfill his mission

To see his pain would be his greatest ambition

We will survive in this world of competition

To make sure that till the ..is done



I won't wait so long

For you

Stop your messin around,

Better think of your future

Time to straighten right out or you'll wind up in jail

You've got your hair permed

You've got your red dress on

Talkin' bout how second gear was such a turn on

And the fog forming on my window tells me that the morning here

And you'll be gone before too long



Who taught you those new tricks?

Damn I shouldn't start that talk,

but life is one big question when your starin at the clock

And the answers always waiting at the liquor store, 40 oz to Freedom,

so I'll take that walk.



And I know that ohhhh... I'm not comin back

Ohh not going back

God knows not going back



You look so fine when you lie it just don't show,

That I know which way the wind blows

40 oz to freedom is the only chance I have to feel good,

even though I feel bad



And I know that ohhhh... I'm not comin back

Ohh not going back

God knows I'm not going back

God knows I'm not going back

Yesterday I saw a whore looking out my door

As she bends my body aches if she'd walk in I would say:

I'm on the mic doin things you like

The name is ras M.G. and I'm a treat you right

Cause all the ladies and me we both agree that I'm going down in world history



uh-uh elected, my rhymes will be perfected.

the mighty MC's will be dissected and rejected

I am the most impressive- aspective and progressive-

motivating, innovating, chillin and digested

Its obvious as ever it will be specialized

Your trying to proclaim-uh- cant be compromised

I am a fresh MC

As you can plainly see

You won't regret a DJ fresh Im sure you'll soon agree

So take a seat n' feel the beat of coarse it is OK, Uh-Uh



Oh she makes my body ache and you know I paid for more

I won't flake or perpetrate, I won't front no funky whore

Don't get me wrong I'm just singing my song

I'm just like you I like to ball my freaks all night long

Not only do I rhyme I also cut so nice they call me delight



My name is eric I have nothing to say

because I am not a fucking d.j.

And if you want to talk to me, then you'll have to talk to my man Bradlee



5000 G, we outta here, peace, unity.

Headed out for Austin, now were half way down the road.

Hollering budda-budda-budda-budda-by! Steady staring out the window.

It fells good, it fells nice, it feels like you need it.

And back out on the road is where we like to be seated.

We got half-pint style, we got a b-boy style. We got half-pint style, we

got a b-boy style.

We got to put that shit together in a creative style. We put that shit

together in a creative style.



Outside on the pavement I won't feel afraid,

there's a little piece of paper saying how we walked that May.

Back out on the highway, and this hurts to say,

No one's got fingers, I got no one to blame.



I can't make you overstand, rising up in a hip-hop stance.

Society's got to me.

That's all you need!



Headed out to Houston, now where halfway out the door.

Hollering budda-budda-budda-budda-by! Staring out the window.

It fells good, it feels nice, it feels like you need it.

I know how females like to be treated.

A license for me and the stars up above,

And on the interstate I fell love, love, love.

And If I never realize then that's how it has to be,

And all DJs out there got to give me money.



Back out on the freeway, I won't fell sane.

Little yellow headlights look like snails smashed in the rain.

Back out on the highway, and this hurts to say,

Blown out speakers, I got no one to blame.



I can't make you overstand, rising up in a hip-hop stance.

Society's got to me.

That's all you need! Yea.



I can ???, but I won't see,

Because no one can tell you, you've got to be afraid.

We got to go back on the highway, live behind the wheel.

I want it real!