Easy Mo Bee - Microphone Master (41st Side Remix) lyrics

Chorus: Das Efx & Mobb Deep Miggity microphone master, funky rhyme maker Miggity microphone master, and we the n***as making paper Miggity microphone master, yeah about to get live Striggity straight from the sewer and the 41st side Verse One: Prodigy The Infamous Mobb and Das now listen Stick you for the only pot you got to piss in Rapping school, keep the key in the ignition When we get back n***a, we shine and glisten Your seven do his thing with percision No time for broke living, I'm trying to see addition Food to fill my kitchen So f*ggot kids snitch and give info, do a drive by in a stolen black Pinto With tinted windows, bullets will flury through your system Your man ran, lucky for him because we missed him We catch him on the rebound but see now We trying to get this money and you trying to stop me What's it gonna be now? You stand up to my crew and get laid down On the ground with the big four pound, he hear the sound On the other side of town, where caps get peeled Break you off love love, give you something to feel Das Efx, Mobb Deep, n***as holding it down Runnin' fiction-a** MC's yonder-bound Eager to please rap n***as get back smacked with pist-als Forced to exile, back in the Nile Verse Two: Dray Well now ease up selector, I bring it on again This is for all my n***as doing time up in the f**ing pen How y'all been? I can't forget my n***as who got left back, F that And all my honeys chilling out in Lefrak Sent this, we gets busy with no followers Stomp you then you throw the towel up, make you roll the Owl up n***as mount up, it's the Infamous with the Sewer Go to Queens and get my weed for one cent and got a brew, uh Check one two ah, blew ya, out the box like Stella Coming from the under with the thunder like Shelly Really, we coming deep just like the Mobb n***a, rhyming is my job but you can wind up getting robbed Anyway, in a day, or night it don't matter It's me, that n***a P, Havoc and the Jibba Jabba- Jaw, we bring it raw without a doubt It's the Infamous and Das Efx here to turn it out Chorus x2 Verse Three: Havoc Ayo what you gonna do with that black deuce deuce? Hit you up, take the cash, you ain't slug-proof, duke Taking yours to survive, it's all a matter of time I'm snatching, living grimey, running never look back The root of evil got me acting like that Life ain't a game, the streets is mortal combat I wasn't blessed with the silver spoon Since my born I was doomed, confined to one room Now you's a customer, copping for natural born hustlers That's what he thought, son, stupid kid you get extorted Stop smiling, be still don't nothing move but the money The Infamous gat clappers and mic masters Verse Four: Scoob Well f** around and I'm a higgity hit ya with hickory diculous Sick a n***as style, twisted off the liquor, b**h I'll figure it's the Books, iggity off the hook Holding sh** down son, we keeping n***as shook, look I got it made like Florence, fatigue garments My man slipped up and got bagged for three warrants Oh my God, the squiggity squad in the place With the Mobb, n***as can get robbed like Base Taste the terror for the leather in the Beemer The Olde E abuser, can't f** with Zima The non-pop singer from the land of rock slingers Where sh** is hot and gunsmoke from n***as Glocks lingers I rip sh** for fun so come one come all MC's will get mad, burned like Jamal Live in my television from the cellar to the attic It's the Books, Krayz Drayz, Prodigy, and f**ing Havoc and it don't stop Chorus x4