Mr. Smith
Album: Mr. Smith
Release Date: 11/21/95
Label: Def Jam
Explicit version of "Mr. Smith" lyrics
Uh Mr. Smith
Mr. Smith
Mr. Smith
I'm goin' to the top leavin' smoke in my trail
B**** ass gangstas put that ass on sale
And even if I'm twice as expensive as the rest
When I go for dolo you ain't checkin' for nuttin' less
My strategy is splittin' brain cavity's
It's ya majesty bringin' you a tragedy
Yeah
When it's time to get down
I bust through all types of red tape and sue papes
Niggas come old but they always wanna infiltrate
I'm cuttin' snakes through the belly witta icepick
And scoopin' hotties
It's the rebirth of murkin' niggas once again
I drain with ink and put your blood in my pen
I'm breakin' ribs till somethin' gives
A nigga got to live and Mr. Smith is power God
Mr. Smith you got the s*** sewed up
Work ya thang baby
Mr. Smith you got the s*** sewed up
Work ya thang baby
Mr. Smith you got the s*** sewed up
Work ya thang baby
Mr. Smith you got the s*** sewed up
Work ya thang baby
What you wanna do
You lack the vitality
I'm on some ole wild s***
Matter of fact
Nah
All these cartoon character MC's gettin' airborne
Takin' off like a hot air balloon
Goin up up up
Bring your heroes down to ground zero
Shotty grippin' ya grill like Pesci and DeNiro
I'm on some s***
Scoopedin' New Jacks and kick 'em in the fire bit
Tell them ole Jap niggas they need to go and stick it
'Coz when it comes to this rap s*** I'm mad wicked
The grand sire bringin' flavour to the whole game
Mr. Smith is my motherfuckin' name
Mr. Smith you got the s*** sewed up
Work ya thang baby
Mr. Smith you got the s*** sewed up
Work ya thang baby
Mr. Smith you got the s*** sewed up
Work ya thang baby
Mr. Smith you got the s*** sewed up
Work ya thang baby
To the bridge
Mr. Smith
Talkin' 'bout Mr. Smith
Talkin' 'bout Mr. Smith
Talkin' 'bout Mr. Smith
Talkin' 'bout
Time's up
I'm about to blow the spot up with that divine touch
I got the magnetic energetic lyrical calasthetic
Ya
Guan boy it's the champion Mr. Smith
Your niggas couldn't raise up with a forklift
Cocked the hammer
It's hard like Bacardi and hot like a house party
All your so-called flavour niggas is deaded
Your next step is where ya headed so don't forget it
Your rhymes is beat
When you scream you sound muddy like a bled teeth
I get'cha open like f-lay
Lethal compositions around your way
I'm the maniacal murderous Mr. James Smith
Rippin' ya ass out the frame with my verbal gift
Mr. Smith you got the s*** sewed up
Work ya thang baby
Mr. Smith you got the s*** sewed up
Work ya thang baby
Mr. Smith you got the s*** sewed up
Work ya thang baby
Mr. Smith you got the s*** sewed up
Work ya thang baby
© CHYSKILLZ MUZIK