[Verse 1: Small World]
I got the giddy up so you can go and give-y'up
I sink any so called emcee you please
Male or female, crew or sim'ony
I betcha by the dollar like any-none can get with me
And I ain't even talking sh**
I be all over these b**hes, like kids throwin' tantrum fits
In malls when they dont get what they want
But I got whatcha need, slammin' beats that pump in SuperSports
And looks to spark seed
And outlast any emcees like ten year guarantees
And I guarantee that this sh** right here will persevere
So wait 'til these muthaf**as stand clear
Or getcha armour on, because I gon get in
All that's in my way out my way, I ain't bullsh**tin'
This ain't no game, this ain't no threat, this ain't no joke
You want a joke? Let's see what's funny while yo' a** is getting choked
Headlight goin' off like I'm the hillside inducted n***a
And I'm shootin' lyrical drive-by's
[Verse 2: San Man]
I'm comin' deep from the depths of my up-sipid-al lows
Unfolds the formulaic style, straight from the soul
It's the birth of a verse with sunshine
Radiant rays for days, when I blast rhymes like fireworks
I retire jerks cause they will never bust
They can be Mounts of Helen ahead but still wanna rough
They just a softie like icecream
And it's a pipe dream to think they could f** with any member of the Rhyme Team
Rhyme schemin', it's that straight to the point
No reason to beat around the bush, plenty rhymes get pushed
Mister Sanz with the lyrical flows
You wanna compete? -Sweet
You know how a miracle goes? -It goes one in a million
And I'm not the one
By the time I'm done, which emcee shall get hung by their tongue
For rhyme embezzlement
Attack emcees, bust they knees à la Nancy Carragen
Approach the mic with all-out war plans
They forever try but they never will scar San
I got the scoop by my side, they like a force field
I'm a mechanic for the way I build on raw steel
Nuts and bolts play by rough beats and raps
Destroying competition, no time even elapse
Comin' off like television late night
Too many in the game but it seems they can't play it right
So disqualification is necessary
Not being a trendsetter, more of a subsidiary
Crew-true, so I lyrically slash ya
Mentally bash ya, and physically thrash yo' whole genre
Sk**ed emcees are now upon ya, spittin' lyrics with the beauty of Black Madonna
[Hook]
Tit for tat, back and forth for the San Man
It's the Small World a.k.a. the Swilla Man
Tit for that, back and forth with the Small World
Mister San cleanin' out b**hes like a house chore
(2x)
[Verse 3: Small World]
I see through scams and schemes like Humphrey's Pancine
So wreck yo' ball or ask b**hin' rappers' worst dream
Like Hakeem I thrive in a crunch time
As soon as they gasping for air, I be like on overdrive
And it's still the first half
When n***as gettin flagrant fouls for jocking my paragraphs
And sometimes it ain't fair
That I f** b**hes out West but muthaf**as feel 'em everywhere
And I take mine personal like Gang Starr
Cause I caged in those that bite like untamed jaguars
But I'mma tit for tat, I'm back in shape
Frauds and fakes, cannot f** my snakes
This sh** ain't rattle 'n' roll, all you please
It's a new dawn, the execution of wack emcees
[Verse 4: San Man]
You know I rhyme with the essence, the bare essentials
n***as get done over Mutt's instrumentals
Lyrical jackpots like I'm pullin' on slots
And if I'm havin' gla**-y eyes it's because I'm sippin' on tops
So what you got? Cause I got more than you could ever gather
After you rhyme, there's only laughter
Small, I and Trevvy Trevvy we roll heavy and steady
We used to do it in a 7-1 Chevy
Dainty rhymes, not be tried or we roamin' the streets
Just gear, Nike sneaks, fat lyrics and beats
Nothing more, nothing less
Microphones get blessed
Build the rock of 19 inch til there ain't nothing less
Just the lyrical jeWELLs that I ring like bells
As I watch the world around I wonder
What the hell is goin' on with these songs?
b**hes tryna prolong that old fake sh**, wait until our earthquake hits
You let Clinton compensate for the damage I make
There'll be a martial law order from state to state
It's like that
Now put all the muthas up on a talk show
"Fake Emcees Taken Out", next on Geraldo
[Hook + scratches]
[Verse 5: Small World]
Heart and soul goes in to every set
Jump sets ain't equipped to compete with this ill close knit
Band of nothing to lose but everything to gain
Concept German three, deserving of a pay day
And my purpose in this crew:
Play out all-grey-tee emcees like cross-coloured jumpsuits
Now who ever steps next to
These precise lyrics that cut sharp like carved bamboo
And a word to all you buyers:
These lyrics may cause drowsiness if you over-recite 'em
But ignite 'em in Jeeps and in ya bedrooms
Add enough trebble, but over-do it with ba**-boom
And watch the three come to life
We may not be whitchu in the flesh but the recording is just as nice
[Scratches]