Текст песни Style Wars - Masta Ace Incorporated
*Punk
mother
fucker*
Check
it
out
and
a...
It′s
the
rick-e,
here
we
go,
tick-e,
(?),
Yo
my
dick
be,
brown
like
(?),
I'll
be
flyin′,
Heads
with
my
scientifical,
(?),
your
brain
cells
are
fryin',
(?),
packin'
a
tour,
Mackin′,
jackin′,
smackin'
a
whore,
So
fuck
ladi
dadi
a,
Any
other
hottie
a,
I
get
wreck
like
the
planes
at
LaGuardia,
I′m
rowdy
like
Roddy
Piper,
I'm
hyper,
Type
of
guy
to
let
it
fly
like
a
sniper,
Viper,
flashin′,
slashin'
a
verse
and,
...nigger
black
like
a
hearse
and,
Cursin′
crazy,
dirty
ass
mouth,
My
dick
is
longer
than
95-South,
Damn,
I'm
teed
off
like
Howie,
Like
Roxanne
I'm
real,
Plus
I′m
the
Master
who
talk
what
he
feel,
Like
a
eel,
electrifyin′,
I'm
tryin′,
Stop
the
madness
the
black
man
is
dyin',
Word
up,
dialect
for
the
dome,
I
live
in
a
cage
but
the
cage
ain′t
my
home,
I'm
a
chrome
down
and
a
wide
body
kit,
I′m
bold
like
that
shit
you
wash
your
clothes
with,
So
sit
down
and
check
out
how
I
am,
*He's
Biz
Markie*
but
that's
not
who
I
am.
Hut
one,
hut
two,
hut
three,
hut
four,
That
is
the
sound
when
it′s
time
to
go
to
war.
Follow
me
and
a,
Everybody,
everybody,
follow
me
and
a,
You
wanna
go
to
war
with
the
nigga
then
you′re
sick,
I'm
quick
with
the
hut
one,
two
that
I
kick,
Ass,
pumpin′
like
gas
through
your
town,
And
I
won't
turn
my
jungle
music
down,
You
can
call
it
what
you
want
but
I
came
to
cause
a
comotion,
Check
out
the
flow
son,
you
might
fit
the
notion,
You
run
but
you
can
not
hide
there′s
no
escapin',
The
super-duper,
hero
with
a
cape
and,
Your
son
bought
my
tape
and,
You′re
wanted
for
raping
my
mother,
My
culture
you
just
left
a
gapin'
hole,
I'm
in
control
like
Marley,
I′m
crashing
my
jeep
into
your
bullshit
Harley,
So
get
off
the
road
rednecks
here
I
come,
With
a
121
kids
from
the
slums
gettin′
dumb,
Brooklyn,
the
Bronx,
Watts,
Queens,
Compton,
and
20
other
spots,
Yo
I
be
writin'
up
the
mad
composition,
Mission
to
uplift
black
man′s
position,
Then
go
fishin'
and
catch
me
a
whale,
A
great
big
white
one
and
put
him
on
sale,
If
I
fail,
I′m
gonna
go
back
and
put
'em
in
jail,
And
make
′em
smoke
crack
and
get
'em
off
track
and,
Even
up
the
score,
Attack
his
daughter
and
treat
her
like
a
whore,
Fool,
Masta
Ace
is
the
kid,
Makin'
sure
that
the
punk
mother
f′ers
get
did.
Hut
one,
hut
two,
hut
three,
hut
four,
That
is
the
sound
when
it′s
time
to
go
to
war.
Follow
me
and
a,
Everybody,
everybody,
follow
me
and...
That
is
the
sound
when
it's
time
to
go
to
war.
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