It'z Lik Dat - Das EFX

Yeah check it, uhh, yeah, check it

Well check it out, yo, it’s the maniac, lyrical brainiac so back the freak up

If niggas got some beef then good grief boy they’d better speak up

Cause I’m rippin this, my style’s ridiculous, look how I word it

These niggas couldn’t tell us they were jealous but I heard it

When they came and tried to tease, please they must be jokin

They tried to diss the kid, they got they fuckin bodies broken

For that rap shit cause black I smack shit from here to Chile

I swallow up your crew then crack a brew and spark a Philly

Cause you’re bluffin like you’re rougher, enough of that crap

Just meet me on the stage and let’s see who can really rap

Cause if you really wanna battle, well that’ll be the spot

So now I pass the mic so that my nigga Books can rock

Three cheers, ayo where’s the mic guy?

Groovy!

If you step then watch that first one cause that first one is a doozy

Then I’m up next to squeeze, I got nuff expertise

For the roughnecks and G’s, I’m swingin somethin, bust the function

Kid, I’ll amp up, recamp up, bust a Hit Squad stamp up

Do your fuckin vest son, just to make a mess, umm

2−1 used to run it wild with the young 'n

The restless, and just beneath the plum is where I’m from and

Hey sweet lookin, you need to peep what I got cookin

Since I’m livin rough I gots ta give it up to Brooklyn

Crews can kiss it up to God, it wouldn’t work, I’m just a jerk

Until it’s time for me to split, chill, gotta murk…

It’s lik dat y’all

Yeah yeah

Well comin back it’s like, um, eenie meenie, none of y’all can see me

Cause yo I disappear and reappear like I’m a genie

It’s the lunatic so bust the tourniquet, it’s just a warning

Cause I could go from AM to PM, like Dawn and

I’m wicked, kick it sicker than your brain like it’s a tumor

I roll with PMD, so motherfuckers kill the rumor

Y’all can never stop my flow cause yo there ain’t nobody looser

I turn more kids to stone than that chick they call Medusa

When I wreck shit I’m on some next shit because I’m quicker, son

I run thru rappers like my name was Eric Dickerson

Now ain’t that a bitch, I switched up my pitch

So you can stay real, kid, but I’mma stay rich

Aight, I kicks my style from Brooklyn and some MCs wanna test this

So I’m sendin em to the showers by the powers that are invested in

The nutcracker, black, I wear these gloves to smack a phony

Ass backwards, like Kraft cheese and macaroni

Good grief, some tried to rock it, G, they need to knock it it-off

They must be eatin Gerber’s cause that shit they dropped was sit-oft

For worse or better, kid, I never let another serve me

I’ll get flyer than that 23 on Mr. Jordan’s jersey

Crews be talkin rough but they can cough it up just like they spit up

The night that they was fucked up lookin for some skins to hit up

Now I wait for Solid Scheme to bring the beat back

Cause just like the flick with Mick, my style is free, jack, believe that

It’s lik dat y’all