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letra de budweiser superfest freestyle - dj mister cee

[verse 1: scoob]
check it, check it, check it, check it!
this here for the motherf-ckin record
here we here we here we go, here we here we go
can i can i can i kick a motherf-ckin flow
chitty chitty bang bang, i chitty bang bang
motherf-ckin n-ggas can’t hang
well oh no, look at the cloud, it’s gonna rain
but i don’t give a f-ck i’m letting n-ggas know they can’t hang
don’t give me no lip, don’t give me no backtalk, yeah break north
don’t make me get my gun and blow your motherf-ckin head off
once again, n-ggas know my style, god d-mn it
unless it’s on the cut so give me the mic and watch me slam it
hard like shaquille, oh you better kneel
when you see me comin, big scoob got em runnin
s-x when i flex i catch wreck on the world tour
with dough in my pockets big like the biscuits in cb4
set up a contest, i’m coming, i’m taking the dough
they wouldn’t pick you even if you had a afro
so don’t try me, you better walk by me
i’ll do you like the first part in menace ii society
like cypress hill, yo, i’m insane
i’ll shoot a hole in your toe
i’ll make you jump like the house of pain
bang biggy bang biggy bang bang
n-ggas can’t hang, n-ggas can’t hang
bang biggy bang biggy bang bang, motherf-ckin n-ggas can’t hang

[verse 2: the notorious b.i.g.]
where brooklyn at? where brooklyn at?
where brooklyn at? where brooklyn at?
we gonna do it like this
anytime you’re ready, check it:
i got seven mac 11’s, about eight 38’s
nine 9’s, ten mac-10’s, the sh-t never ends
you can’t touch my riches
even if you had mc hammer and them 357 b-tches
biggie smalls the millionaire, the mansion, the yacht
the two weed spots, the two hot glocks
that’s how i got the weed spot
i shot dread in the head, took the bread and the lambsbread
little gotti got the shotty to your body
so don’t resist, or you might miss christmas
i tote guns,i make number runs
i give mc’s the runs, drippin’
when i throw my clip in the ak, i slay from far away
everybody hit the d-e-c-k
my slow flow’s remarkable, peace to mateo
now we smoke weed like tony montana sniffed the yayo
that’s crazy blunts, mad l’s
my voice excels from the avenue to jail cells
oh my god, i’m dropping sh-t like a pigeon
i hope you’re listenin’, smackin’ babies at their christenin’

[verse 3: 2pac]
yeah, where the motherf-ckin thugs at?
throw up your motherf-ckin middle finger
we gonna do this sh-t like this
i thank the lord for my many blessings, though i’m stressin
keep a vest for protection, from the barrel of a smith & wesson
and all my n-ggas in the pen, here we go again
ain’t nothing separating us but my mac-10
born in the ghetto as a hustler, older
a straight soldier, buckin at the bustas
no matter how you try, n-ggas never die
we just retaliate with hate, then we multiply
you see me striking down the block, hitting corners
mobbing like a motherf-cker, living like i wanna
and ain’t no stopping at the red lights, i’m sideways
thug life, motherf-cker crime pays
let the cops put their lights on: chase me n-gga!
zig zaggin’ through the freeway: race me n-gga!
in a high speed chase with the law
the realest motherf-cker that you ever saw

[verse 4: shyheim]
yo, this goes out to everybody from staten island
(ah mister cee, and you don’t stop)
yo, times is getting hard, word is bond, i swear to god
i even got caught trying to steal from the junkyard
a born terror, a rebel without a pause
i never had a good christmas, so who is santa claus
i walk the streets at night with my head down
in this lil town you see clowns that wanna be down
so they get a glock and l!ck shots to get props
and when sh-t rocks all you can hear when the sh-lls drop
an old man got shot in the parking lot
in front of my building i hang with his grandchildren
and for the n-gga that pulled the trigger then tried to slide
and hide, but he got knocked by the homicide
and this happens everyday around my way
so i pray that i can live another day

[kane] this how we gonna do it, hold up cee, aiyyo, let’s try this
[shy] staten island in the motherf-ckin house!
w-ssup, wu-tang clan in here or what?

[verse 5: big daddy kane]
now what’s the bullsh-t n-ggas been saying
dont try to act like martin now with that “i was just playin!”
no need to grieve for more, now that the beef is on
uhh!! oh yeah motherf-cker, your t–th is gone
just cause you rap don’t meant that you’re catching wreck with me
step to this i’ll give your mic a vasectomy
i only know one n-gga that can come next to me
no, that’s a tattle, cause i can’t count my own shadow
a battle, i gots to have it, ‘lest you’re gonna rob me
like they did, whittaker when he fought chavez
cause when it comes to going against kane rappin
that’s like a pimp trying to pull a nun, ain’t nothing happenin
non-resistible, non compatible
i’m not saying i’m the best, i’m just saying i’m f-ckin incredible
and let’s just get one more thing understood
if i fart on a record, trust me n-gga, that sh-t gon’ sound good

- dj mister cee

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