(Akinyele) Money is the sweetest hangover! (Sadat X) Aiyyo I don't wanna get over! Mix tape flavor! (Sadat X) Money is the sweetest hangover! (Akinyele) Aiyyo I don't wanna get over!
(Sadat X) I be the wild cowboy got a lot of style boy Ask the kids neighborhood block Hangin out so mindin the fat spots Slams to Aves on the fat tip [Flex rewinds] Arms is time, with the mud for the Scud Like Mario Elie jumps out from the three line Baby won't you be mine, baby won't you be mine
(Akinyele) I'm flippin up like an addict kickin realism Yes insane like Sadaam on the television Flippin fat terrorism, yo, Akinyele, this is him You probably hear my rhythms through the, tunnels of prison Listen word to the coffins of Yusef Hawkins Rappers be rappin rough talkin But I be clappin guns that be blockin To make they ass step like a WalkMan You don't, stand a chance against, Mr. Magnificent Cause ever since the days of British Walkers A sole street talker, New Yorker Wailing on your ass like like Parker Delivering rhymes/lines like Ceasearian Coming from the gut, here to cut you motherfuckers up My style as sharp as a MACHETE Shredding rappers like SPAGHETTI Your crew better jump back in the oven Cause them niggas ain't READY To deal with crooks Even a shark could get his jaws took, from a right hook Cause I tap more Chins than the Chinese phonebooks
(Sadat X) If there's a cure for being rich (Akinyele) I don't want it, I don't want it (Akinyele) Aiyyo, and if there's a cure for being broke (Sadat X) Nigga I need it, and I need it
(Sadat X) Hey life to me is no Popcorn Love Better saddle up this year with two gloves Home, home to me's the range Where the deers and the chickenheads get slayed Brand Nubian could never be played, wild cowboy Cartel, Brand Nubian I love it well Put on intent to sell, but the Gods can't be large In the Nubian name, I been in the game And remain with the fame, and remained the same Hey your man's comin home from jail in a month He's the big diesel nigga, I'm the mid-size nigga If you don't want it to happen, put his pictures back Up on the wall, because I'm not the homewrecker see Kicked in the movies, with his Kool-Aid lookin thirst But they ain't makin moves cause they know honey Been drinkin in bars ridin around in cars Fried chicken never tasted so good, recipes from The Colonel's steamy chicken box Make the temperature sweat, and keep your tight skirt wet
[Funkmaster Flex] 60 Minutes of Funk, Volume 1 Big shout to the Flip Squad
(Akinyele) So if there's a cure for being rich (Sadat X) I don't want it, I don't want it (Akinyele) Aiyyo and if there's a cure for being broke (Sadat X) Nigga I need it, and I need it
(Akineyle) Aiyyo, niggas on my dick Cause I stay dropping jewels like the incarcerated version of Slick Rick There's no question I'll, damage a professional Cause I'm a big child, in this profession Scatchin and itchin to set it, like a yeast infection Big up to agreement rappers, don't know the half Movin like moonwalkers with your backwards ass I'm too fast, for those who procrastinate Goin bananas like gorillas from the Planet of the Apes To play it safe, you punks better wear capes You can't escape, when I'm on your fire escape Hangin your ass out the window like drapes You want beef I bring steak bust your motherfucking chop It's the Ak, straight up and down, like six o'clock I'm amped like watts with a fo'-fo' that go Hit that toe and shot, cause word to Sadat X marks the spot when it's time to get hot