Microphone - Das EFX

I iggity am what I is

I comes to get biz so bust the jam

I might not be the man but y’all I still proceed to slam, I cram

To understand why these rappers try to faze me

They must be crazy messin with the Books and Drayzie

Big-up to Jersey and my people’s out in L. I

Well-a hell, I can never catch a sweller

Cause you can tell I gets biz like Markie

No matter what the weather son you never wanna spark me

I’m kickin rhymes and gettin mines on the regular

See me in the black Benz just blowin up the cellular

We high as shit, the sky is hit

You know the sewer style yo is fly as shit

So grip (what?), you’re cheap and buried cause you’re never comin near it

So fear it when you hear it, cheer it but don’t compare it

I still be schoolin, foolin em when I’m speakin

Kids be peepin, they love the way that we be freakin

My sewer style it cause disaster so when I ask ya

You better answer who’s the microphone master

Miggity microphone master, super rhyme maker (x4)

Well yo, here’s the humdinger, I’m briggity bringin a new style of lingo

It’s a rap singer with the fat flow, so lo and behold

I higgity hold this mic piece for ransom

It’s all about expansion, stocks of skunk, props and my pops get a mansion

By the age of 16, had dreams of big screens

Mad rubbers to keep my dick clean

Chrome tools in rent

And I only go downtown to buy jewels and tints

Jaboll, Guess, ol' Gold and sess

I check the mic 2−1 and chew gum to ease the breath

My style is wild like the Cats of Villanova

The heat on the street’ll keep my 40's spillin over

So the skunk and thai keep me high when I’m smokin

And I don’t sleep, just take naps with one eye open

See I believe the beaded weed in me is feedin me

The inspiration to riggity rock the nation

From white folk to Haitian, Boriqua Jamaican

Burn MC’s like degrees of Mason because you’re fakin

I’m on point, exclamation with the caper

The flavor misbehaver from the super duper rhyme maker

I got to give a shiggity shout to my mans, my fans at the shows

Friends, foes, stiggity stunts and hoes

Drats!

I’m freakin it rather fat, ooh shit!

My crew is shake, rattle and roll thick

Thicker than your blunt cause yo I be’s the Brooklyn trooper

And I got more spunk than that punk from Punky Brewster

Bust the lingo Ringo stiggity Starr bingo

I run shit like Kunta, breaks bones like Mandingo

I’m starstruck like starbuck, the bad bro is mad though

I’m all that small cat like Tonka or Hasbro

I have no figgity fear yeah, it’s me and mines

Masters of the microphone, makers of the super rhymes

Yo, well yo the shit sound clever, I’m down for whatever like nuttin nice

Big-up to DJ Dice wreckin shop when he cut 'n' slice

These 20 MC’s, please!

I never heard of some

We need to murder some like Colin Ferguson

But now ya heard us from the under so feel the thunder

Ya best ta come clean like Jeru and Felix Unger

I’m buggin like gristle, see I should dis you

Dismiss you, my style’s official and that’s the issue

I show the flow I go until it’s time to leave

Believe I’m packin more rhymes up my sleeve

(*til fade*)

Miggity microphone master, super rhyme maker