paroles de chanson My Zone! - Biz Markie , Redman

Yo, its on
Niggaz, niggaz
Crackers, crackers
Niggaz, niggaz

Yo Jo, Jo
This is a test of the emergency smokecast system
This, this is a test
This, this, this is a test of the emergency smokecast system

Yo, yo, yo
Funk doc is on a world tear jumpin′ thirteen thousand feet
Out of plane in the air like where!
The next ghetto I'm gonna run
I′m gonna shut them ear drums until you talk a sign language, there go, son

Walls start to bleedin' when my jaws is leakin'
Doc, do two hundred first week, your label call a meeting
Yea, I′m gonna let the gorrilas up in your building
Kick your door, shoot up the ceiling, snatch the coke, kidnap the children

Don′t start lying about your tire being flat or catching a allergy attack
When I axe the battle, when the bat
Saddling them ho's like yeehaw
Bitch, enjoy the tour when you′re fuckin' the doc, five o′clock free ride

Ambulance too late for them, these paper thin niggaz
Robbin' at the ATM with a staple gun
I′m a rookie scuba diver, holler
You rap scholars do the knowledge
You won't make it through to college

Be the R I C K
Never wore those, my lyrics to the mic
Is like my hormones to pornos
Bitches keep the door closed

Mothafuckers be tryin' to step in my zone
I grab my chrome, an′ I′m like, yo it's on
Mothafuckers be tryin′ to step in my zone
I grab my chrome, an' I′m like, yo it's on
Mothafuckers be tryin′ to step in my zone
I grab my chrome, an' I'm like, yo it′s on
Mothafuckers be tryin′ to step in my zone
I grab my chrome, an' I′m like, yo it's on

Aiyo, who fuckin′ with us
We bustin' your gut with lyrics
You either feel it or fear it
And smash the hardest artist regardless in steez
I′m heartless with these, you ready, cock it and squeeze

With precise precision you better listen
Guaranteed to blow your vision if we engage in collision
Talk slick and be laid out in chalk
I still stay out in Nork and blaze my way to court
So nigga fuck what you thought

Yo, I'm straight
Yo, I'm straight

This is DJ, say what
Let the monkeys out or we ain′t spankin′ it
Or W, fuck all your radio
You want the fuck, ass cold for temperatures
To be in a low thirties tonight
So break out the switch in this, in the heni
And listen for the summer to win tickets to the
Def Jam's beat the nigga asshole
The number to call in is 1-800-haul ass
That′s 1-800-HAUL ASS
Now, check out another cuck