B.Y.S.

B.Y.S.

Gang Starr

[Verse 1]

I'm like a sniper,
Rhymes'll strike you when I'm rockin
Mad chicks be duckin when the g starts talkin
That's because my word is bond,
I get much fan mail, and I always respond,
So tell your hun to write me too,
Make sure she puts attention, mr. guru
Brothers know the flow is unique,
I got 100 wild styles in my black fa-leece
Mc's want to be me, so they keep askin,
For me to teach them methods both slow and faster,
Others want to act as if they better,
But they only got 1 style, which ain't all that clever,
I'm cooler than wind, harder than cold steel,
I get the ladies with more than just sex appeal,
I'm mistic, psycic, scannin all your thoughts,
Ill touch your soul, and make your brain feel groggy,
When my rapture traps you, and makes you mine,
You'll submit into the gifted and lyrical lines,
So suckas realize that the size is too large,
When I come through, I'm pullin whole crews cars,
I be actin correctly, on a gang starr tip,
Mc's who front I'm gonna bust ya shit

[Chorus]
Bust ya shit (cut and scratched)
?ok party keep it?

Verse 2
I wonder do you love it enough,
I'm steppin right in your turf?
never the fronta to bluff?
I got the fresh cut balls the, brothers call me,
Guru the man, yes the one with all the,
J A Z Z, why type essence, street type blessings,
...manifesting,
The one who makes the fly la-deez feel plea-sant,
Never forgetting that to myself I'm true,
Do what you want to but watch yourself go dude,
I don't want to hear all that loud mouth,
And try to pull yours out, when nothing comes out
Then you'll see why you can't compete with me,
The notorious guru, of the gang you see,
Star stands for bala like I said before,
I'm like a doctors cure,
Slicker than roger moore,
I slide up to a ?crab? mc like this,
Tap him in the head with my mic like this,
Ill be revealin that you're weak to the world if you wish,
And I insist, that if you persist,
Then you'll get creamed, 'cause I'm a get real scheme,
So don't you try to flex or try to look all mean,
Ey yo check it that's dead that's it,
Cause all you phony ass rappers ima bust ya shit,

(chorus)

So now when you see me on the set,
You know I may unleash a,
Lyric like a mad dog poppin through the speaker,
Step off, unless you want to get torn up,
Your raps worn out burnt out fucked up,
You lucked up or maybe you lucked out,
Cause at the battle last time,
You snuck out,
But now I'm rollin over you full blast,
I'm here to let you know no longer will the bull last,
And she's tellin lies about bernard ? smith,
Keep on fakin moves and ima,
(sound of 7 punches)

Written by ELAM, KEITH/MARTIN, CHRISTOPHER E
Published by EMI Music Publishing

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.

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