King Just - No Flow On the Rodeo Lyrics

Lyrics No Flow On the Rodeo - King Just



Well, here I am, the funky man wit the ill manner
Don′t spasm 'cos I be y′all bad mamma jamma
I told you couldn't fuck wit me, na, na, na, na, na
I turn Incredible Hulk back into David Bammer
I am a slammin' this shit just like a human hammer
And rock suits from Timbuktu to Alabama
Is the matter and chocolate here comes the sword?
Hit us hard but now we livin′ large, oh my God
Yo, it′s on, movin' in like Desert Storm
Droppin′ bombs, ring the alarm, where's my bong?
Light it up ′cos I'ma smoke shit just like a Gemini
For niggas who don′t remember, yo, Mo Bee
Make it easy, girls wanna seize me
Believe me, it's the same shit at the 6 G
Harvard tactics, breakin' niggas backwards
The zoo stickin′ niggas like cactus for practice
These fake rappers, try to chill and make a pill
Knowin′ they ain't real, knowin′ they ain't got skills
I′m from the hill where niggas go to toe to toe
In other words, no flows on the rodeo
Yippeekiyay, yippee yay, yippee yo
Yippeekiyay, yippee yay, yippee yo
Yippeekiyay, yippee yay, yippee yo
Yo, no flows on the rodeo
Yippeekiyay, yippee yay, yippee yo
Yippeekiyay, yippee yay, yippee yo
Yippeekiyay, yippee yay, yippee yo
Yo, no flows on the rodeo
Holy cow, the kangaroo, they let the wildest nigga out the zoo
It's the bird who flew the coup on the first scoop
Who blew the roof? Poof, straight into the mystics
Super sadistic, I′m butter like a biscuit
Oh shit kid, watch the sonic boom get boomer
I flip hits and shits and free my kazoomas
On like Pumas and niggas can't throw me out
'Cos the rhymes I give′ll get yo′ dick hard like pencil stout
Shout a little bit louder now
Who's that nigga goin′, aow, aow?
Style, makes me super-hyginetic
Fuck athletics, I'm dope and poetic
Forget it ′cos niggas don't want none
Can′t get none, probably done before they see the outcome
The drum is the constant beat in my ear
The warrior is me because I have no fear
I swear, to my little seed, take heed
'Cos in this rap shit, I'ma succeed and smoke weed
And get lifted high as a kite
You can′t fuck wit the rhymes I write
So you write tonight′s the night
I'm ready to fight, it′s on and it's war
I turn, I shoot, I score
Yippeekiyay, yippee yay, yippee yo
Yippeekiyay, yippee yay, yippee yo
Yippeekiyay, yippee yay, yippee yo
Yo, no flows on the rodeo
Yippeekiyay, yippee yay, yippee yo
Yippeekiyay, yippee yay, yippee yo
Yippeekiyay, yippee yay, yippee yo
Yo, no flows on the rodeo
I′m like a threat to a needle, make more hits than Beatles
And stay sharp like a church steeple
For my people, I gotta put 'em on somehow
Is the faces you meet up, is the ones you meet goin′ down?
Bow, I'm blowin' up spots this year
I don′t care, so rollin′ up the owls in the stairs
Be prepared for all types of shit like this
Hits after hits, it can only be black fist
Shit, what you thinkin'?
The reason, I′m the shit is 'cos I′m stinkin'
You niggas is dead like Abe Lincoln
I′m thinkin', I'm a fuckin′ master plan
It be the man that made me the man that I am
God damn, the nigga slams like NBA jam
Tryin′ to battle me is tryin to drown Aquaman
It couldn't happen, I′m still on the Staten
Still rappin', still keepin′ the crowd clappin'
I′m blastin' all up in the like a shuttle
Makin' other rap squads go in a huddle, leave a puddle
Of blood for my niggas lock down, one love
For you niggas who don′t like me, blaow, catch a slug
Yippeekiyay, yippee yay, yippee yo
Yippeekiyay, yippee yay, yippee yo
Yippeekiyay, yippee yay, yippee yo
Yo, no flows on the rodeo
Yippeekiyay, yippee yay, yippee yo
Yippeekiyay, yippee yay, yippee yo
Yippeekiyay, yippee yay, yippee yo
Yo, no flows on the rodeo
What? ′95
No one survive



Writer(s): Harvey Osten S, Angevin Adrian C


King Just - Mystics Of The God
Album Mystics Of The God
date of release
16-11-2010




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