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Ultramagnetic MC's - Nottz lyrics
(feat. Goody-2)
 [Ced Gee:]
 Yeah~! Hehehehe, uh-huh, uh-huh
 We bouts to get gutter
 You know what I'm talkin 'bout son, we takin this back to the STREETS
 (To the streets..) on some Ultramagnetic heat (caliente)
 Ced Gee, Kool Keith (Goody-2) drop it
 Yo, feel me, here we go
 Check it, uhh
 [Chorus: x4]
 We gotta rock, Nottz is in our pocket
 [Kool Keith:]
 I'm more tragic with the treats than a cheap critic
 on the net, talkin shit, downloadin beats
 Piss on the type of nigga that won't go the distance
 Take his girl to the World Serious, I'm behind homeplate
 You thrifty bastards, sit in the bleacher seats
 With secondhand pre-washed jeans, and hippie coats on
 Alternative clothes, I never seen
 That shit ain't the STREET!
 All you discount bargain hunters fuck up the game, and make rap weak
 The previous albums, those are the tracks I leak
 I save all my good stuff
 Little pieces of shit don't deserve to hear me at my peak
 Mountain niggaz with climbin gear, suck my dick
 And hop in the back of your Cherokee Jeep with Cherokee beeps!
 I know I come steep, the Ranger Rover
 Play Sesame Street niggaz out like Oscar the Grouch and Grover
 See bitches wigs in the middle intersection
 Back up the track and I roll over
[Chorus]
 [Ced Gee:]
 You know me! I don't give a fuck who you witUltramagnetic MC's - Nottz - http://motolyrics.com/ultramagnetic-mcs/nottz-lyrics.html
 I murder you, your crew, and all those fools you wit
 I blast shots from my 9, 'til I move ya kid
 Aim one for your head, then three to your ribs
 You talk a good one son, but all that shit is fibs
 Your time is up in this game, you got a short time to live
 Your whole career, was nuttin but hype
 Your whole career, you talked about your silver and called it ice
 Your whole career, was sold out for a very low price
 Your whole career, your stupid ass couldn't get your
 couple of weak lines right
 Son are you tryin to fuck with me tonight?
 (Nahh Ced, they ain't fuckin with you tonight)
[Chorus]
 [Goody-2:]
 Goody-2
 You say you loco, think weed out {?} pojo
 Four cuatro, a couple of rhinos in the barrel
 I don't think this asshole is gonna be here tomorrow
 Definitely, I be reppin the Boogie Down Bronx
 My method will be, lethal weapons of word destruction
 And I'm growin up lyrically
 Y'all niggaz can't do shit to me
 Y'all can't leave dawg, your girl be missin me
 Pissin me off, have her go back, cryin to your door
 I won't stand there stressed, especially for broads
 I'm not the nicest, I'm one of the best
 You fuck with me I put exaggerated holes in your chest
 I make your lung feel the wrath of my lyrical flow
 And the heat of the beat by who do you know, you know
 I said fuck all you bitches that don't think I'm the one
 If you pass by my block then I'm pressin you son
 I understand why this shit is so hard to grasp
 You in my class, I'm goin fast, leavin you last
 Look at me now, 285 pounds - cats is weak - ohhh
[Chorus x2]

















