31 Bumrush

Artifacts

Composed by: R. Brown/W. Williams
My off the hook look, leaves my competitors shook 
No matter what groups you book, I still jam like Sam Cooke 
Took a whole click out, and had the soundman flippin 
kickin wicked freestyle to shit on niggaz with the writtens 
Check my computer type graphics, niggaz get they ass kicked 
quick if they try to flip like ashes, I'm 
never passive, as is, yo you see the flow yo what happened 
Check out them niggaz rappin 
The clap of the crowd be showin me love like Cupid 
Loop it back, shit slams like I dished off to Shaq 
My crew stay strapped with battle raps on cap 
We ready to clap on chaps who make up half you sucker rap acts 
I'm intact with facts, MC's can't compete with these treats 
And Shawn J P. with the beats, unleash 
talents, balance, styles extra-ordinary 
with the vocabulary, no other buries 
We know schematics on rapper's theatrics 
Only a few can freak status, Artifacts techniques 
can freak from here to Dalls, leavin you to clean up 
like Alice, shit's thick like smoke from out the chalice 
The weak we em-barr-ass, showin no pity on your city 
We either play you live or have you taped in like MIDI (who) 
The Brick City Committee comin through a nigga soundset 
This round's for all our niggaz that didn't get down yet 
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust 
From off the back of the bus, the 31 Bumrush 
Crews we breeze through, you don't know, you need to 
tell the soundman, don't touch nothin but the EQ 
(repeat 2X) 
Deafenin, lethal weapon steppin with the props 
Seekin through your sale racks and peepin all mall cops 
In to win, tall like, Paul Bunyan, the bass line's drummin 
Meanin that the Notty Headed Nigguz comin 
Lights, camera! Act like you wanna bring the dra-ma 
I make it hotter than all of Atlanta, ready to act up 
My Hooterville upbringin is swingin upon ya son 
Gunnin for your under the name of Tame One 
Yo, eyes focused, lips ready to toke it 
You'll choke on my skit, your dilemma is to quit 
flip scripts, who's the winner takin out all beginners 
in an instant, my style's polished and stain resistant 
The E&J sipper blunt ripper nigga flips your bitch ass 
With better effects, we go to war like George Lu-cas 
Toucan Sam and we be the Mister Man simply put 
Your twelve inch could barely make a foot 
We got bombs, my momma told me no when I was younger 
but I told her, "I don't cry on no shoulders I'm a soldier" 
Let me show ya, how we can rock a crowd like Ayatollah 
Check the folder (here we go check it out right now) 
Now you got the scoop, check the Guess troop low 
On the chest, niggaz still use the word fresh blessed 
You see the structure, builder, constructer 
Bust a, nother with the skills that I muster 
Up touche you check the rhyme forte 
Artifacts, Tame One, and MC El the Sensai 
Chorus
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