To them girls out in Huntington, Long Island prevail
R n' B niggaz lie to mother, sister an' daughter
So numb I wouldn't been able to feel
'Cause my stealth show more than knowledge of self
For a while, so do that dance
I can stress the makin' of loot to feed the fam
Songwriters: Homer Banks, Bettye Jean Crutcher, Donald Davis, Raymond Earl Jackson, David Jolicoeur, Vincent Mason, Kelvin Mercer
Who walk around like they got nuts
Dramatized in they eyes as the ones to please
To have sex disguised as lovin' in the rain
Accompanied by the screams, Plug One
That's my job as a supa emcee, I'm from Long Isle
I wanna be a supa emcee
De La, De La
Mad yellow, you can't rock the Mardi Gras, my mellow
See you a crew of whack niggaz
Wonce again, wonce again Long Island
We servin' posda, Posdanos help the next get loose
So you better take you naked ass an' put on some clothes
An' I likes to make it known Strong Island stylin'
Like an alcohol scenario, rap be on the rocks
When rap kids apply violent pressure to father
Havin' them towed from the lot? Yes, I be
While the voices impersonate the true who I am
Long Island, Long Island
Niggaz diggin' in my pockets for my currency reels
All my brothers out in Roosevelt, Freeport Uniondale to Long Beach
That what's the name of this crew?
An' use the tits an' ass like a crutch
You mean whack emcee, nah, a whack em-crew
Wait a minute, new video, like a leopard, I'm spotted
Goin' beyond ninety watts? Yes, I be
You're just a contra-dick, your mind's been tampered with
'Cause wonder Why's here to save the day
Yo, this be goin' out to them kids from East Smash
Man, the only thing butter 'bout you is your spine
Attack a hit to go beyond this age of rap counterfeits
I got knowledge of you, to know you a whack em-crew
These words that I, man, with the I to fest
What the hell do you wanna be when you grow up?
While you sayin' one thing, really meanin' the next
Publishers: DAISY AGE MUSIC, WARNER-TAMERLANE PUBLISHING CORP
Are you rockin' the spot? Yes, I be
Until my ass was no longer mass appeal
Always buzzin' in my ear you down with supa emcees
'Til there was no longer thoughts to dream
Showin' others they do not? Yes, I be
Born I, wonder why with the thoughts to rhyme
But still I make girls' brown eyes blue at will
If the jam needs motion, I'm the one to dial
Like some holy books, but looks to the sky
Authenticity's that missin' fee to pay to join the flock of MC
Man, they rather be hoes like that male emcee
When an unpolished demo led to limos at the age of eighteen
Showin' others they do not? Yes, I be
Are you rockin' the spot? Yes, I be
Buzzin' in my ear, oh, you one of those wannabes
Man, the underground's about not bein' exposed
Out of the Heavens, August 1, 7, 69
Up in a night club chillin' with Kamaal an' Phife
Amityville, to all my people out in Wyandanch, Bayshore
Mobile, make it worth your while
Long Island, Long Island
These niggaz stand lower than knees
It doesn't match with they given anatomy
You should have never tried to test
Oh shit, I guess that was all the fame I was alloted
Their words are more hallow than October 31st
Steppin' to me with your pleas that you gots, butter rhymes
Well alright an' what be the dish we servin'?
'Cause ultimately, I'm lettin' all MCs know
Shot up with fame like Novacaine, it made me numb
Wonce again, my friends, Long Island
I be that farmer cultivatin', ownin' acres of mics
Brother an' son for fun to say they inflict pain
Well you're already that, so let me step up to bat
C.I.'s in the place, Brentwood, Hempstead
Well are you rockin' it? Yes, yes, I be rockin' it
What's worse, hate to see the females switch to sexual mentality
Long Island, wonce again Long Island
Havin' then towed from the lot? Yes, I be