The Ebonic Plague

Mix it up with the big Y.O.

Comin' from the Laf Isle with fat funk flows

So, yo, how you feelin'? Tell me how you feelin'

Mad drug dealin', mad caps peelin'

I do my thing, drink a Budweiser

And I seen more bush than Dan Anheiser

Twist the caps of you fake John Gottis

Watch the pump, shottie, make you look like Kwame

Cru's about to drop the dirty understand the cipher

Got nothin' to lose so I'm a do like a lifer

**** couldn't catch up with the mustard, disgusted

Drop the shit that gotcha brains dusted, bust it

This is how it flow in the Bronx Zoo, ya'll

Beef up a step and style with a fall

Nothing but the rough, understood?

Got me in double extra large bulletproof with the hood

Sittin' at  the bar sippin' Becks

Plus I got the two turntables and a microphone on deck

So who's next? Rugged Ras

Flossin' ice, and drop that soul on that ass

The IBF got my rhymes ranked 'cause they hittin'

Plus I'm all around like Scottie Pippin

Here it is, east west, I mean China to Mexico

If you love the way it's goin' down let me know

Fuck it, Harlem knows the ledge

All my Bronx **** know the wedge, full fledge

Uptown, plus we got the Cali love

Y.O.G., truly yours the Breakfast Club

Yo, punk, I was hot as ninety-seven in '73

D.O.B. my pedigree multiple felonies

See you spit phlegm, I spit fumes

Across the ruins of kiosks hoverin' sand dunes

A miniature man-nume, it's National Lampoon's Alien Vacation

I'm abductin' motherfuckin' rappers to my inner space station (What?)

For sheezy

When Ras Kas get to swervin' off 'Gnac, believe me

I hit below the belt

Bustin' **** balls like Riddick Bowe versus Golota

Hell yeah, I'm a rider

Ain't nothin', sweetie, cancer causin' like saccharin

Action, intoxicated, chinky eyed black men

And nowadays fools forget what they actually named

Besides a loyal cadets and priceless briquettes

Basically, I don't give a shit how rich you get

I'll have you in the court talkin' to yourself

Like Alanis Morissette with Tourette's (Oh, wee, that's right)

I like sisters with vaginas so (Can we get freaky tonight?)

Donald Trump wouldn't let you shine his shoes, my man

If you pissed off you dyin' with your dick in your hand

Plus when shit hits the fan, I mean when Ras reach the crowd

And verse to verse, switch my aura then rotate Earth

And fuck that's servin' emcees and livin' bummy

I'm on some show me the money and still educate the dummy

It's all about me for you, and you for me

And, playa, and if you do for two, we do for three

You think it's 'bout the cash, the cars and jewelry

We livin' in the age of the ebonic plague

It's all about me for you, and you for me

And, playa, and if you do for two, we do for three

You think it's 'bout the cash, the cars and jewelry

We livin' in the age of the ebonic plague

You see the words is meshin' through this lyrical aggression

Punks pop shit we Joe Pesc' 'em, no question

Cru session, no time for second guessin'

Frontin' or fessin', we full court pressin'

Testin', any in our way learned a lesson

Forever in my Stetson, chrome plated Wesson

We ain't got no time for excuses and reasons

Bringing nothin' but butter in all four seasons

Wanna blow my nose when I'm sneezing

With hundred dollar bills, foes I'm squeezin', breezin'

Through your nearest town with the frown expression

Those Bronx streets left a lastin' impression

Now think about this, imagine Cru rhymers

Like the world with no clock bein' timeless

Pure dope when it come to the oratorical

Stay on the low with a dime, that's adorable

Got the rap shit covered like long johns

Big brother Ant taught me how to bear arms

L.A. to D.C., I gets my PC, keeps me a fifth of BC

And we gon' drink to your pass peeps that flashed heat

Never no more, when I pull, I blast heat

Think you can deal? You crazier than Björk

Belong up on Fantasy Isle with Mr. Rourke