Harlem World lyrics

[Intro]
sh*t, that makes me high
One, two, one
Yo, we gon' bring it back to Harlem World
Motherf*ckin' jocks (British Knights)
Yo, I remember when n*ggas was walking down the street with bombers on
Wearin' motherf*ckin' Goose Goose
Motherf*ckers was walking around with brogans
I was wearing 'em
A gold tooth that was never shined
I was wearing 'em
See, 'cause tonight is the night of all nights
Most people gather around
To hear the show that is comin' through your town
I was wearin' em
See, my name (What? What?)
Is something that you won't know unless you're down with the Brooklyn Zoo (Ladies and gentlemen)
I was wearing 'em
Other brothers come, but never come back (Hustlers, b*tches)
Introducing
So basically, what the Ol' motherf*ckin' Dirty bast*rd is sayin' (Oh)
Is that if you f*ck around, you gon' get your ass f*cked up
So don't f*ck around or get laid down

[Verse]
Yo, I remember, da-na-na, dum-da-dum-dum, da-na-na
Not too long ago, da-na-na, dum-da-dum-dum, da-na-na
I went to a city, da-na-na, dum-da-dum-dum, da-na-na
And I saw a Wu-Tang show, da-na-na, dum-da-dum-dum, da-na-na
Now, I always wanted, da-na-na, dum-da-dum-dum, da-na-na
To get with the band, da-na-na, dum-da-dum-dum, da-na-na
But n*ggas was singin' they own songs, bein' in they own worlds
So I guess I— I guess I— rah
The terminology, the psychology
You still expect me to accept—
Do what I say off the TDK
With the button on record and the other on—
Thus I press pause for a serious cause
To respect an intellect with this gratifying—
Now that I'm ready, let the music begin
As I detect what I wrote with my—
Through the time that I spent, money that I lent
Rap records went up just about—
Then it came a new way to get paid
They said, "Rhymin' on the mic is the number one—"
Then a brother get the feeling that he wanna play cool
You discombobulated, diabolical fool
Hog flesh MC, go play in the mud
'Nother twentieth-century, modern day
Cannibal, humanoid, underground dweller
CHUD broke loose from the goddamn cellar
Dope fiend addict, why you walk with
Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome?
When the MCs came to live out they name
Most rocked rhymes that was all the same
When I elevated and mastered the time
You was stimulated from the high post—
You got shocked because you knew you were rocked
You're not the king of the diss, you's a queen of a b*tch
You're like a homosexual, your ass always switch
n*ggas wake up in the morning, your ugly-ass guise
Got slob around your mouth, green cold in your eye
You can't smile, your teeth too gritty
Can't even move, drawers too sh*tty
You know what else? It's shaped like a missile
The holes in your drawers, when you fart, them sh*ts—
You ducker, sucker, motherf*cker, coldhearted faggot
Sperm germ, slimy worm, disintegrated maggots
Repeat your rhymes all the time like a f*ckin' parrot
Phony gold chains only rated two carats
You tell your friends that your home is like Heaven
Livin' in the gutter, sewer seven, pipe eleven
You wear your socks twelve days in a row
Turn them on the other side so the dirt won't show
Go to school, take a sh*t, don't wipe your ass
Blame it on another sucker n*gga in your class
You wanna battle? Is it the pork on your fork or the swine on your mind
Make you rap against a brother with a weak-ass rhyme?
Swine on your mind, pork on your fork
Make you imitate a brother in the state of New York
Chain on your brain that drove you insane
When you tried to claim for the talent and the fame
Nothin' to gain, yet and still, you came
Suffered the pain as I demolish your name
Not like Betty Crocker, Betty cake in the ove'
Sayin', "This is dedicated to the one I love"
Not a swine or dove from the Heavens of above
When I rap, people clap, so they push and they shove
When I rhyme, I get loose better than Mother Goose
Rock the mic' day and night, so you see I'm the juice
Like the two-six-eight, politicians demonstrate
[Outro]
Now, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up
What y'all n*ggas don't seem to hear
Is y'all cannot f*ck with me
I said, all can't f*ck with me
I wanna give a shout out to my n*gga Dore, Dore, Dore, Dore
Buddah Monk, Buddah Monk, Buddah Monk
Yo, Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack
For the n*ggas who's here
And the girls who's out there
Throw your hands in the air
'Cause in this ones is more fly, fly, fly, fly, fly, fly, bzzt, woo
Get your ass in the house, get your ass in the house, boy, I told you
Get your ass in the house
Get— get in the goddamn house, boy
Last f*ckin' time I wanna talk to you tonight, you hardheaded motherf*cker
I'm sorry, mommy
I don't— I don't mean no trouble by it
But when it come to f*ckin' with you MCs