Yo
My crew is in the house
Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless
Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J, and Mike Boogie
And I'mma set it like this

Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked
You better surrender before you get smoked
You niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?
I put chumps to rest fast, when my Smith-Wes' blast
So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed
Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews
Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse
I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk
So stay alert, no smirk, cause these knuckles hurt
I'm from the alley, not the valley
I'm hotter than Cali, wicked like Harry
And fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle
I revive crowds with live styles
Don't hang with jive pals
Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'

Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave
Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave
In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks
Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed
Innovated, rappers you know who made it
Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated
This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter
Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter
I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare
Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer
Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up
Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts

For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff
I'm on some murder stuff
And when I talk every verb is rough
Front on this and get beat bad
With big bats that bruise, break bones
Then wind up bloody in a bodybag
MC's are live, but I'm mad liver
Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a African cab driver
Step to this and get sliced with ease
Ate up like rice and peas
(Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these
Ask the nigga in my last bout
He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out
Microphones I gotta tear
Peace to Big L, straight from hell
I'm the fuck up outta here

Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic
Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic
I rag crews cause I'm bad news
In a mad mood I'm serving brothers quicker than fast food
Step to this and get your body blown
Cause I'm no maricon, for poems I slide the hotties home
Here's some advice, I'm mad nice
Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice
And cold take a fag's life
My swellin melon got niggas jealin
Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon

Yo, I bust chumps like a Glock 10, when I drops in
The top ten is rocked when it's locked in
I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow
Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show
I got lines that's deeper than a jail
Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail
Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me
Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me
You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off
I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off
And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out
For dissin, you come up missing like a cub scout

Rappers be funny like Flex, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son
Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun
But Killa Kam, I get erratic when it comes to static
There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic
Increase the peace that cease cause once I release
My crew from the east, we leavin at least
20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack
So make tracks, I break backs
I jack with def gats and black macs
On Lenox Ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks
Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took

I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser
I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer
Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead
Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead
In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys
And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali
And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse
I'm in a daze and I'm so confused
From seein heads shake so many times the lead make
And Mike Boogie's next up, and keep my head straight

I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest
Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat
Cause they know when I start droppin' poems
That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones and sendin' niggas hoppin' home
Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this
So if you're come to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches
And niggas, I dont' need a gun for you, none of you
Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my Number 2
And it's death in every paragraph
And niggas learn when I burn their muthafuckin' ass to ash
No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend
I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a Mac-10
And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed
And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike
Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough
Peace to Big L, ayo, 8 is enough

True, true
And before I get up outta here
I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man
Brothers that was there since the beginning
What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew
Peace to Mase Murder and the B.B.O. Crew
The Best Out Crew, the M&M Crew
And all the other crews that's representin in Harlem
You know what I'm sayin?
And last but not least
I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew
My crew
Word up


Lyrics submitted by da77yn

8 Iz Enuff Lyrics as written by Lamont Coleman Anthony Best

Lyrics © Royalty Network

Lyrics powered by LyricFind

8 Iz Enuff song meanings
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    General Comment

    this song is bomb, such good flow

    canadianchronicon May 06, 2007   Link

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