Paroles Step Up

de Kurupt

Aw, yeah

Right about now it's time to get busy

Huh, straight out the box, nonstop

Kurupt the Kingpin, Xzibit, Crooked I

Wait a minute, um

This is the art of, manslaughter

When I'm rockin', I'm more shockin'

Than droppin' a boom box in bath water

You entered the wrong scuffle

You catchin' a chrome buckle

I uppercut niggas hard enough

To break my own knuckles

Deliver the sick verbals

My shotty spit around

Before you hit the ground

Your body spin around, in six circles

Diminishin' infamous menaces

I'm waitin' to get dicked, if not

I'm a start finishin' innocents, lyrics

I'm breezin' the region

Freezin' G's in your legion

Freakin' ancient techniques

When I'm speakin' phoenician

It's all about Crooked

These bitches shout Crooked

I'll make you say the West Coast

Ain't shit without Crooked

I own a vicious label, niggas'll get disabled

When I'm spittin' rhymes written on project kitchen tables

I load this 4-5 and let slugs dive at ya

Now that's for Crooked I, the scrap happy, mic snatcha

Motherfuckers can you dig that, huh?

Can you fuck with this?

Let's get Kurupt the Kingpin to fuck y'all niggas up

Y'all don't wanna see none of this West Coast MC shit

Yeah, how you like me now motherfucker?

Terror starts, in the midst of your heart, starts

The storm, my vocals float like arts

In the mystic state of mind, when I create a rhyme

My microphone massacres every year the same time

With audio amputations, vocal thoughts of a loud talker

Up against the microphone night stalker

With a tendency of bashing MCs, like ten of me

As you can see I continue mashin' MCs

Caboom, the room gets cleared as my views get clearer

Extra-terrestrial microphone terror

In effect, get infected

Tell me, "What the fuck you expected?"

These venemous injections

I leave whole sections and sections full of injections

From these poisenous melodies and selections

I select the methods of slow anguish

I mangle shit with my language

Tell me, have you ever seen one elope

With the microphone

In a scandal like abilities to make MCs explode

Baboom, alone in my own zone

So don't compare me to none

Not one's nearly severe, 'cuz I severely

Impair MCs near me, oppose and fear me

I got plots and theories

Sincerely, I could have the spot locked

Niggas get stoned for touching microphones

With no knowledge on how to rock

Yeah, back in effect, it don't stop

Turn your speakers up, DJ Battlecat on the table

We fuckin' it up like this and like that, yeah

Got my homeboy Xzibit in the motherfuccin' house, Alkaholiks

When I was enlisted

I came to the table double fisted

Sadistic, heavy artillery, for all my enemies

Bust shots up in the sky screamin' obscenities

Make niggas sport cackies and chucks from here to Italy

It'll be, a cold day in hell when you see Xzibit fail

Act like a bitch on bail, tuck tail, and run

See we do it how it can't be done

I'm the rough cut, plus how the west was won

Or direct descendant of the gatling gun

Don't test me, son, you fuck around and catch you one

That ain't a threat, that's a promise I can definitely keep

You can't compete wit' 25 niggas wit' heat in the street

Ready to repeat, round after after round at you

All hell break lose when the whole pound come through

I found that you and yours, can never fuck wit' mine

I own shit but gimme some more like Busta Rhymes

'Cross the line, now you gotta pay the piper

I'm The Alkaholik sniper, that be keepin' the crowds hyper

It's ashes to ashes and dust to dust

Can't stop till me and my niggas is platinum plus

My Dogg Kurupt

Yeah, no shit

Yeah, y'all can't fuck wit' that

That's what I'm talkin' about

West coast, we been doin' this shit for years

Aint nothin' happenin' wit' that

Battlecat, right

Whatcha say?

Motherfuckas that be hangin' in the battle

That's what I'm talkin' about

Daz Dillinger

Break it down, break it down

Motherfuckas can't fade this shit

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