- Votes:
Cecilia Gayle - Brooklyn Academy Freestyle lyrics
Intro:
 Psss...Oh my god, Yo! These niggaz wil' out, son!
 Yo, Eddie Ill, man, do you know what you just did
 puttin these guys on your tape? Yo these niggaz is
 straight off the...yo they be wil'in, yo Brooklyn Ac
 DJ Eddie Ill, DL Three, comin' atchyou live in 3-d
 Is you ready for this, man? Brooklyn Ac
 [Mr. Metaphor]
 Ay-yo we indestructible son it's real like that
 You can shoot me with a bullet, it'll heal right back
 I'll eat forty MC's, as a real light snack
 Yo where the mic at? I lay my game down quite flat
 I got a tight rap I'ma stick in your head
 With a big fat blunt to leave you glistening red
 All the ladies know I'm bad, bad! and wicked in bed
 Cause some cats bite the bush, but I lick it instead
 But girl I'm only going down if you giving me head
 And I'ma "Put it on! Put it on!" like Kid Capri said
 Son I'm tougher than leather, I'll rip a verse like cheap thread
 Then put my hand on dick and make you love (?Deep Jay?)
 I got, no regrets, no weight on my back
 Put on your seat-belt strap it ain't safe on my track
 Fuck puttin out a name, I want my face on the map
 I want them gimme head shorties with they face in my lap
 Snake in the grass, I got your girl shakin her ass
 I roll with grimy BK cats who rake in your cash
 Son we 'robbin old folks and makin the dash'
 Jumpin through store fronts wild and breakin the glass
 I'm only looking toward the future, stay away from my past
 Cause I looked death in the face when I was eight and a half
 MC's is D- work, son I'm acin the class
 Circus clown acts, y'all keep makin me laugh
 [Icon]
 Ay-yo a nigga like me wanna get paid and these streets
 these streets, you they Canada Dry
 I lay you back with the plans in my mind, party dunn
 We in the back with our hats in the front, passin the blunt
 If there's beef then we blastin them up
 If I don't know you, I don't fuck with you counterfeit thugs
 Nigga, cause y'all just rent them cars, nigga, you semi-hard
 I'ma hit you with the semi-, you semi-gone
 And if you wanna battle, dude, I'll pull a gat on you
 I'ma put a whole in you, and your man in back of you
 and your man that's in back of him
 Nigga, that's only one bullet, imagine ten
 I'll kill a whole club, hold up
 I got it sewn up, my niggaz role up
 And y'all niggaz, ain't no thugs, never sold drugs
 I spit till I ain't gots no spit
 I spit during a lunar eclipseCecilia Gayle - Brooklyn Academy Freestyle - http://motolyrics.com/cecilia-gayle/brooklyn-academy-freestyle-lyrics.html
 I spit till I ain't got no lips
 I'ma spit until my skin fall off
 Everything I spit is sick, I ain't well no more
 Hell's my cure, freed Jesus who was nailed to the cross
 Swallowed the devil, spit fire out the ?shit-pieced fork?
 [Block McLoud]
 Yo, yo, I beat you down like "Headare Nutsbound"
 On a bus bound for uptown cause you wouldn't gimme a bus down
 You ain't truly hard, I pull your card on the boulevard
 Rob you for your jewelry guard and jewelry card
 Cause I'ma, full retard, in fact I'll slap you silly
 I'll tap the jelly out your capillary
 Son your harmless, at your very worst you wouldn't accomplish
 a sidekick, you ride dicks, you like a armrest - you get elbowed!
 You're just a pussy cat with a pussy rap
 I'll bend your cap and push it back
 You a has been, you ain't lastin
 I can't get ? fastin, get tossed fast into the trash bin, you poo-put
 You get chewed up, like new gut
 You're a bitch screwed up, knocked up, then tubes cut
 You don't come off blue nuts, you're bashful
 Babblin blocks, a handful you can't handle
 [Pumpkinhead]
 I spit faster than the average rapper
 Brooklyn Ac a bunch of bastards that'll jack ya
 Quicker than a flash'a, Black talons comin at ya
 Pistol packer, we want your money, your wife, and the keys to your Acura
 And the number to your manager
 So we can whip his ass for even thinking you got stamina
 Nigga, we proffessionals with guns and the cameras
 So smell and say cheese, I put one in your bandanna
 I spit that sick shit, that give your mans cancer
 Black Panther, disguised as a panhandler
 Elbow you in the face like Tito Santana
 You can tell we hungry, you can tell we grungy
 I smoke blunts in front of the church, every Sunday
 Abuse crews cause they got loose screws like Kelly Bundy
 I can tell you dumbies, I can tell you funny
 And I can tell you gay like the Purple Telle-Tubby
 [Icon]
 Ay-yo Brooklyn Ac niggaz, we slap niggaz
 Battle wack niggaz, strapped with mac-millaz
 Cock-back and slap, average rap niggaz
 Snatch tracks with the impacts of crack dealers
 Battle for dough, battle for shines
 Battle for whips, battle for chips, NIGGA ITS ON!
 Ay-yo, battle for hoes, battle for dimes
 Battle for streets, battle for beats, NIGGA ITS ON!










