Styles Of Beyond - Superstars lyrics

Verse 1 (Tak) Ayo, first things first, It's time to shake ground In the eighth round, Box battle and break down For the beat, k**a rhyme tone Jump in the cyclone S-T-Y-L-E-S Yes I know The rap fiend, Vaccine, Pack rat fiend Put ‘em up, What the f** You plucked the bad seed Off the wall Spitting the gorilla tag team What's up now Duck down, Stuff that can't breathe Verse 2 (Ryu) Yo, you know the routine The team in effect please Don't sleep, You wanna feed one of my pet peeves The more beef the better, Sound gay But you all wanna sleep together, Okay In the club We don't sneak berettas. Why not? We got so much street credit, The f**ing police let us Now that's bullsh**, Cause we don't pack heat So come and get your head cracked into fat meat Chorus Keep it moving it's on now Making it bump loud Shaking it buck wild Waving the punk style Faking the funk now Pow duck Watch the pump What now Watch your battleship get sunk down Click Click Pow Pow Nine nine Thou Thou What Just what I thought what's up now? Huh Huh Buckshot through the speaker Dabbin' the track with both hands I'm like huh, huh Buckshot through the speakers Dabbin' the track with both hands Verse 3 (Ryu) Hold it down never give in, Styles sever your limbs However you want it to end, Dirty syringe I'll murder them again Nine seven serving them since Of thirty your friends Get knocked out turbulent winds Hopped out Whatchu' want Beer, bourbon, or gin I'm a fish You can tell by the flippers and fins Verse 4 (Tak) Yo I got a rock style Pivot the offspring And joke with him with The distorted guitar string Who am I? Russian roulette, Kumathai Pushing you back Hotter then Quebec in July Area five one Stereo bop gun Live here we go S-O-B drop some For the kids in the hall With the new block tape Blast from both angles Like Boondock Saints So get up get up So let the sound hit you Snap this audio style picture Huh Chorus Verse 5 (Tak) Who the hell's this Splitting the belly upon the shellfish Sittin' Indian style Playin the fair blitz Drilling your brain like Graphic video games Feel the syringe From the style Stickin' into your vein Verse 6 (Ryu) Yo What kind of sh** is he on Really His style's really Beyond Come on punk f** off You really got to be gone Ripped out of your brain Piss covered in sh** To diss this S-O-B gang Son of b**h I'ma start k**ing for kicks There ain't an Air Force One in the globe I can't fig Get it I'm sick wit it When I spit the venom and it Drips a minute Gets the women in a Quick dilemma We can settle it now And I don't know who did it But they said it was Styles Chorus