Low Profile - No Mercy lyrics

[VERSE 1: WC] Concentration, a method I use to allude Or confuse or remove a s**er away from my crew No mercy, I'm givin no slack to those who wack Flinch an inch and get beat with a bat Now here's a mellow rhyme I slapped together a few minutes ago Pertainin to those who dissed the Low Pros Kept us on hold, called us dead broke, yo You know punk, I got the right to take your life on the go Cause you'se a perpetrator, you ain't down, you're just around And by, you step off, punk, before you get beat down Brutally dissed, not only mental, but physical Brought face to face to the 5'10" lyrical WC, now it feels, hey yo, check it When you mention my name, think of a full metal jacket Not mislead, I improvise and many buy it But don't slip unless you wanna see a riot Smile in my face, you're nothin but a backstabber Roamin around sayin that I'm a weak rapper To solo artists and crews and those who never heard of me I'm here to say that the W is givin no mercy (He's got style He's got grace He's got humor And he understands his format) [VERSE 2: WC] Picture flames steadily burnin in front of your dome Intensity is growin and growin, the heat is gettin strong You're trapped inside, have lost your breath Lookin at d**h, cause on the Dub you slept And overlooked the professional But see, I kept comin, yo Lyrics so fly that shoulda been on _That's Incredible_ Now why would a s**er wanna battle the Dub? You're just a featherweight, or better yet a scrub A snob, I dedicate, not perpetrate, get it straight To you '89 rappers, y'all ain't all that great Want a l, I meet your rhymes at the hip-hop shows With styles that played out with Gladys Knight and the afros You ain't down, punk, you're not invited You're jokin my rhymes, all you wanna do is bite it Correspondin to my rap, the need to adapt Comprehending to my English, I'm not talkin in Japanese Or Chinese, I'm speakin of a disease Called 'perpetratin', you punk MC's Yo, the W strikes like a sword, just rippin and shrippin You phoney rappers in half, y'all be trippin Like little women, feminine punks, you need to quit I want the mic like a basehead want a hit Versatility, ability makes it hard to step to me Step off, you're soft, go face humility Really see, you wanna be jocks of impurity Step towards the Dub - aw man, that's stupidity Mentality gotta be growin strong, stop gaggin me Strategy: seek, destroy comp's a dead tragedy Rhyme designer, I didn't climb to encline Here's some old school stuff, y'all, to mess with your mind Like poison or Raid, but too bad, I don't spray no mo' Now I throw grenades and carry .44's Bro, you're too slow, hit the danceflo' It's time for the W, wax and tax shows Solo artists and crews and those of you who heard of me I'm here to say that the W is givin no mercy (There is nothing abnormal about the way that he talks He doesn't talk abnormally fast He doesn't talk slow He just talks to the people)