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    Come on, yeah

    Yo I'm from L I fella, vison had you tune into my figgida
    Microphone is mobile
    Holding mic's is so while I be just day dreaming
    Drop for like, nine months, and rock from backyards to
    Who wants to live the gutter life, we got sidewalks to walk,
    I need a chick with big potatoes to mash, baby
    Hang like parachutes, I've been floating for years
    Went from rapping in cars to rapping careers
    One beer, two beers, I got the gift like Santa
    I go from NY to DC, and down to Atlanta
    Make you fly like propellor, we be down in the cellor
    What I guess you call the basement, cause thats where all
    the bass went
    When we turn it up a notch, old school like Ed Kotch
    Toss my foot up in the air and grab my crotch
    Who am I? Michael, keep the music on a cycle
    So we can finish up the flow within your fro
    Word out

    This is called frozen style
    Shatter your teeth style
    Freeze like artic style y'all

    Come on
    Check it out
    I'm the P to the O to the S
    Known to pinpoint the flow to the chest
    So wear your vest, nibble the thighs and breast on
    Had to sneak it cause her moms kept me under pressure
    As the Sun appears to rise and set
    Some cats live for the hood cause it's as good as it gets
    But my plot is much thicker, I move it much quicker
    Three-hundred and sixty mile to the P H
    So I'm balanced, not a fella to fall
    Connecting the dots, I got two propellors in awe
    Went from ghetto to the meadow
    Seen all degrees of hot, and froze when I was not
    Like lot, my lady threw salt in the game
    Invested cheese in the mouse who sent pork into fame
    Now you hear my name being screamed on the ride of life
    It's too late to get of, to get off

    We in the house y'all, we in the house y'all
    We about to get evicted, there ain't no lights or liquid
    The bills ain't paid and last week we had a raid
    Cause we partied too much but that's my family's trade
    Invited all of my folks, and yo all my folks stayed
    They tried to silence our shit, but we just pushed up the
    Sat back to charge a dollar, hadn't got paid
    And called on the band and got stupid when the keyboard

    (talking in backround)

    Keeping funky with the Propellerheads y'all

    Now listen
    You see, I'm here to usher the pain with no relief
    But still get the "Great Scotts, are you a thief?"
    "Seems like you got a mouth full of gold.." records
    Sorry for that, platinum plaque soon to come
    Till then propellor got me working the drum
    For a fee so notiFI the foe looking for the fumble
    I hear you want to rumble on the mic, so check it out
    How you want it, I got it -- Oh Yeah?

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