Rob Lewis - Who U Won Test lyrics

Intro/Chorus: repeat 4X Who you won test, me have a champion style Verse One: Meet the mic controller, the Philly roller, the wicked one Sun rude bwoy come rhymes off top the head Said what I said and did what I did Never catch another bid, create rubbers and slid I'm out of there, ghost evaporate vanish Callate la voca if need be I'm Spanish No habla ingles, police ask questions I don't know nuttin, ain't nuttin happening, stop stressing I'm headed down the alleyway With the Smith on my hip, shank in my hand, who's the man You won test, who me? I think you better back up and chill, G Don't make me mad boy, don't even try Eyah got sk**s, eyah smoke mad thai You steppin to a brother who been through it all My freestyle is wild you nah won test my yes y'all You think you got flavor to match? You can get a smack for that, black Chorus Verse Two: Nobody can do it You runnin out of gas Sun, leakin much fluid I'm hungry like Jack two inches away from a Big Mac Then BUCK BUCK BUCK Take that witcha on the way down, so you don't feel the ground When you hit, and your head splits, f** all that bullsh** It's hectic, respect it, the dialect, I come Original, the intellect, refuses to tongue twist So don't tell me naythan Me have a champion style, hardcore with a taste of Jamaican You steppin to the wrong one the Nine is the seed of Jesus I get loose on ninety proof Fatter than a bubble goose, unpredictable You never know what I'm going to say after I say What I say when I say what I say when I play, next?!? There it is, who you won test Interlude: The deceased resented the fact, and told him off in no uncertain terms He still kept coming, he identified himself, and then drew his revolver Chorus Verse Three: Cream of the crop nonstop hip-hop Funky stuff rough enough to, break up the handcuffs Scuff a cream puff like an old pair of boots When the Nine millimeter shoots the gift I was born with Who's that, with the b**by trap, poisoning rap With the wack bullcrap, we can't have that Shut him down, I'm underground And if my sound hits the airwaves of pop, it'll still be hip-hop No samples from Barry Manilow Strictly Timbo, you know, the whole 40 below That's how I'm rollin in the Nines Nine-Five, Nine-Six, Nine-Seven to get mines Outro: Yeah I'm sending this out to all you bigmouth Knucklehead s**ers that was talkin all that garbage I am the man, who you won test, punk?