No Static At All Lyrics

No static at all

Beef not needed to waste one

'Cause trouble don't feed the bass drum

Some so feeble, so play the hoodlum

A humdrum liver in Bedlam

Bet your last buck, you don't laugh to this

Your horse came last behind the cactus

Back so strong, you thought wrong a fallacy

The groove will whip and flip cause it has to be

In there, like Belvedere in his underwear

On the new year, my dear, so make it clear

I'm gonna ask do you wanna live small?

Static? Nah troop, none at all

Why meddle in the middle of a ruckus?

[Incomprehensible] sip slowly on Snapple in hand

Not these hands of mine holdin' clippers

Slip and clip your flat top to ceasar

Ease your ego, I go toe to toe

Throw my voice like I throw my yo-yo

And ho ho ho, on the mic is life support

And toward a crumb static ain't my sport

Swing to this, Serch swings to that

Much as you noticed, they always wear hats

Boots and loops produced by Prince Paul

Slaps ya skull, no static at all

Static mixed in but it don't cling

To a fat rope dope Gucci link or an earring

Hand now gropin' for

But the hand is used to get skins

Skim the cream but it seems you still rise
3rd Bass - No Static At All - http://motolyrics.com/3rd-bass/no-static-at-all-lyrics.html
For some who lives more, now life life size

All are lepers in my swingdom

Groups and troops get friends and they bring them

In goes props so pop 'til the mornin'

Home to the young, pop still snorin'

Wake up you blackhead and heed the call

Aiyyo, no static at all

I flip on kicks, my DJ tricks

The a.k.a code name Richie Rich

(Daddy Rich, you never watch him on TV?)

Straight no takes, the iron had East bridge

full on 1210's flippin' the beats

Some bust nuts, Daddy Rich bust cuts

Such transform over rhythms on dust

I rush this rhythm, hold like Mingus

I swing this joint, no static to sting this

A bitch's brew, who [Incomprehensible] gyro

Scabs can't craft what only the fly knows

Got skins all in on scheamin'

Scandalous hooks grab on to what's gleamin'

I'm seemin' vexed in my rhymin' texts

Opened up shop to chop off the head, next

I put off punks like junk so sporadic

Stashed away like old drawers in my attic

Or drawers on my legs, figures what I says

Snack on Jolly Rancher or Orange Pez

Yep, this ain't no collect call

So peace, yo Pete

No static at all

True