Yeah yeah we about to bring it to yo ass. Heru, chop shop, shop what?
Yo what you rhyme about a lot?
Are you that smooth cat pop R&B body clot?
Are you that outer space off beat who fucked the beat up?
You know you think you so deep but you can't keep up
I can't fade it when I hear a lot of bullshit
That's why when I grab the mic I unload a full clip
Big up to Grams down in Venice
Defari start this shit Chocolate Tye will finish
Yo yo the lyrical dentist the menace
Fuck up more by the minute
Leave the scene grinnin'
Defari got you spinnin'
So many below average
Not from Dallas but I roll with plenty of Mavericks
See bad habits leave you empty handed
Stranded and I can't have it
Wack MCs take this shit for granted and
And ya lose get bruised when you come through
Puffin' blunts twistin' brews but still don't have a clue
Of what this amounts to
Strictly fam rip the program
Peace to the Ro-gram
I can't let no man withstand the plan in hand
Bonified Likwit fam
In the Barbershop I get the fresh cuts
Ya want to do?
This the last time I'm warning you
In regards to whom it may concern
I burn crews with loose screws
Choose your weapon or keep steppin'
'Cause right now kid I think you slippin'
And ya loose get bruised when you come through
Puffin' blunts twistin' brews and still don't have a clue
[Repeat x 4]
Defari Heru pure as twenty-four karat
Black like 28th the barracks
The rare kid, rare style
Up rock flare style
Comparing yourself to us is not fair child
Is guaranteed to pump
And give crews exactly what they want
No time to front
Come flyin' from the begin
For my time
I know kids weekdays to weekends
Don't front Quest hit you with the bumps
Nothing change I'm always watchin' for these shady ass chumps
You want to face off?
You treble with the bass off
No dope beat in other words you don't even know me
Tryin' to show me different patterns like my Saturn
On the low key really only out to smoke me
Can't hold me
Wack niggas think they can out flow me
Shake my hand then watch they man try to throw me
A beat, when he ain't got no soul
That's why everything I do I stay close to home
Like 20 inch chrome Defari splash on the streets bringin' heat
Surround myself with nothing but my peeps
Like Kings, Queens and diamond earrings
On a do or die angle like a bishop
Turn the fifth up
Pass it to Todd for lyrical stick ups
Get ripped up keep your lip zipped up
Get ripped up (tied up)
Cause all the long you was sized up
Now your rides up
Brains fried up
Go take a shower take off that make up
All the spaced up
Can't brake up unit
Chocolate Tye, Defari got tight flows like fluid
Through a faucet
Remember paid is what the boss gets
Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings
"No Clue" as written by Kevin Baker Duane Johnson
Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
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