Terra N Ya Era Lyrics

Terra N Ya Era lyrics

You looking in the mouth of madness, skilled out since I had this
I'm talking
bout nothing but pure D badness
My acceleration is compatible to a bima
My
pockets looking greener, from the funky cold medina
Don't tell me bout the
things that you done did cause I done did it
Don't tell me bout the skins
that you done hit, cause I done hit it
And once I rock these, with a style
that's cock deis
Good God, I get the crowd together like knock knees
Now,
I don't act hard, I just mack hard
Baggin' video looking honeys with the big
back yard
Yes lord, girls I'm gamin' leaving the microphone
flamin'
Throwing up hip-hop signs cause that's the set that I be
claimin'
Guerilla war fares for those who love to pull your card
Grimies
from Fort Green to Malcolm X Boulevard
Now, if that's what you're hoping
then it's the wrong things you're scopin'
I may not rap bout slittin no
throats but trust me kid I'll get you open

Verse 2
Here comes a taste
of the rawness, like you never saw this
Once I grip the cordless, my victory
is flawless
Chaos and havoc, lyrically psychopathic
At times get
pornographic, lord man I gots to have it
Then I commit to hit you with this
composite that's ultimate
Too legit splendid come get wit' it for your
comfort
But then sloppily, rappers try to copy me
Take pieces of my
property, and use it all unproperly
And probably, been focusing a while to
copy my style
But child what I'll compile is too versatile
I'm too
superior, it's sort of like comparing a
Spanking new Desert Eagle to a rusty
little derringer
But skip the tool, let's try to deal here with the
jewel
That I'm droppin on you, now let me take you all to school
You see,
to graduate in hip-hop you must be smart
And no you don't have to know how to
paint to make your rhymes a form of art
Poetry and literature is what makes
this English fanatic
Now dig this, I drop science but still deal with
mathematics
And since I don't be dealing with what's considered a
mystery
I learned the dead presidents to pass American History
Got my
degree in rapology
Hip-hop had to set me free, look mom, a real emcee
So
you want yours now, well don't get caught with your drawers down
Cause word
life, this industry is half corrupt just like the Dogg Pound

Verse
3
Rap godfather
Oh goodness gracious, you better make it spacious
For
the vivacious, ostentatious, who feel courageous?
I put it on them using my
tongue as a sword
But at times get broader than broad for those who insist
to get floored
Whatever it takes to see your nerve gone, and word
born
Black Caesar gonna get his swerve on
My name should be referred to
in medical terms
Cause I get way up in the cut and I'm talking way worse
than germs
You like to chase it playin catch like Tom & Jerry
But on the
contrary, I'd rather sip the Dom Peri
Lay back in harmony, because it's so
bizarre to see
That all the hard core rappers are slowly turning R&B
Well
pardon me, you contradict yo'self, I see you not perfect yo'self
You like
that type music yo'self, stick yo'self
What happened to black men of pride
‘nuff men have died
Nowadays what's been applied, in hip-hop is
genocide
That's when the rappers go get the clappers
Can't you see they
trying to strap us just to trap us, good god it's backwards
One nation under
a groove, that's how we move
It's time to teach the youth get it together
show and prove
Me no run with the gun or speak of none for action
When
you get done scream I'm the one, it looks like an illusion
I deal with
equality so never call my brethren son
Yes mon, me got mad flava just like
jerk chicken