"94 via Satellite" as written by Teren Delvon Jones, Adam Ryan Carter, Opio Lindsey, Tajai Massey and Damani Thompson....
featuring Del the Funky Homosapien


Yeah y'all niggaz don't know nothin about this

What that nigga say? Enrich Oakland funk

Hah gonna take that shit serious

Verse One: Tajai

Man fuck an MC

I got a tip that's fat and lengthy like a 40 pistol

for your missus baby she'll do me 'fore you miss this

sporty shit whips your man senseless

Them obese hits with thick wrists so spin them ten bits

and come up, like these sucker punks won't even run up

and speak, we the reason that your shit is called weak

And y'all our liveliehood, as long as it's understood

The crew be rippin this, and you be strippin this

like it was hubs, why? Because we cuttin them dubs

so fuckin fat, that you gotta bite that, we got it like that

I'm not no type actor hoopster singer or nothing

We'll hook the track up, and I'll become the, decisive factor


y'all niggaz can't dream to think about this shit

You can bite it

But by that time it'll be too late 'cause it's already been recited

Come rip this shit

Verse Two: Del

Ha ha ha ha!!

I try not to be, too tempermental

Everything I do yes it's true it's meant for mental renovation

With innovation laced it, embalming fluid

flew it through your speaker do it make you want to seek your soul

like Nat King Cole, my shit is gold

I hold a pole of polarity, like a wand and fondle phrases

ages, before you ever heard a lion roar

My minions were preparing for my birth to unearth the black core

The pearl of persistence to keep your interest

Keep evildoers outside with fences

I make my rhymes audible and portable and sort it for

the burst of energy 'cause it's affordable of course

there's more to throw, to the sharks, and modify the marks

Perhaps I use a parable of Rosa Parks, on the front of the bus

I don't discuss coming less than us

Dirty devils never ques-tion us!!

Yeah, Hieroglyphics in the house, Souls of Mischief

Yeah check it out

Verse Three: A-Plus

It's the grill buster, the ill Plus-ter

My skills must abominate, niggaz who ain't rhymin great I debate

The situation's critical

The shit you say is pitiful

Your skill tank is empty and my shit is full

Went to school unleaded

No one in this world ever said it, get beheaded by the crew dreaded

MC dicer, I'sa

little bit wiser, but yo my shit is nicer, the ill price you pay

is this, I slice MC's with my greatest hits

We take no shit in rap, that's it, you wack

So get your ass on, nigga bomb

Be in the cut 'fore I get my blast on

nigga earl's how you're comin at me, so I'ma brandish MC's

Until they vanish with ease, causin damage with these


Souls of Mischief in the house

Hieroglyphics, Opio come rip this shit for the crew

Verse Four: Opio

Yeah, one two one two

Who me?? Yeah see I'm only out for one thing

Domination, encasing MC's chasing they dreams

Evaded and slipped clean through the system

mauled shaken-up and touchy 'cause we dissed em

Bitch you need to listen to this one

The tension, to get your heart rate quickens

damn near beating out your chest, ya can't predict what's next

I bet conviction is stressful, MC's that bite they wrestle

with the mic, all night, hoping to recite

Excite, captivate the crowd, make my momma proud, now

Never ever will I drain, Souls of Mischief supreme

the crown tipped, to the side, you don't want to collide

A landslide victory for the team they all died

Nigga, yeah, it's like that and-uh, it's like that and-uh

It's like that and-uh

Verse Five: Phesto

A Hieroglyphics yeah

Clearly distinguished from these incompetent niggaz

playin possum with the mic, suckin peanuts

Tryin to be Phes, freak it with a twist

but missed, by a long shot, I hope they all flop

I manipulate the mic as a concussive force

No remorse for, preluckin MC's

I couldn't be cut with, the keenest of blades

Holstering the limits of pressing in it, projecting my image

like a hologram, reanimatin MC's

Shamrock deceased, base Phes jus dissipated the rest

A waiting antihistamine is distressed and jaded

Phes escalated as the mack of all trades

Yeah, uh-huh

Souls of Mischief, Hieroglyphics, throw your hands in the air c'mon!

Yeah, you know we don't stop

Oakland California, hah

Lettin niggaz know!!

Lyrics submitted by greco_punk

"94 Via Satellite" as written by Damani Thompson Adam Ryan Carter

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics powered by LyricFind

94 via Satellite song meanings
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