Laze Num Bawon (remix) Lyrics

Num Bawon (remix) Lyrics

Another Laze production with an even smoother sound



It's 1994 and I'm taking breaking suckers down



To they lowest element, they claim it's irrelevant



That they ain't true artists but they do it for the hell of it



I'm the schizophrenic tenet in your house



And when you pop that shit, hurry scurry like a mouse



Suckers getting busted in they teeth when they fuck around



I'll call you Bozo Lollipop 'cause you're a sucker, clown



You're rhymes are just a drizzle and I be weatherwise



Guys pissing on they mother like it was DEAD/ALIVE



But step for a battle of snaps and I'll beat you



Your mother's like Bologna but she'll still refuse to meet you



Teaching like a professor but yet the intellectuals



Say my rhyme's divine though it's still ineffectual



Shove your arguments, get in line and take a number, son



I'm the motherfucker that be number one







Number one on your hit list but also on the playlist



Of the radio stations that promised me they'd play this



Five years in the game yet I still have to answer to



New jack fans looking for shit for dancing to



They all disappointed when they hear me start to roll



'Cause I ain't sayin' "Whoot" or "Fiz-uck the hiz-oe"



That ain't mi stylee and I be wondering



Why the drizzle rhymers seem to be thundering



On the charts but yet they started rhyming last month



I'm at a midnight snack you just past lunch



It ain't my fault I ain't speakin' on a blunt or gun



Just to prove the fact that I'm number one







All the fools was acting foolish like it was they job



But year after year I make more hits than the mob



Brothers want to battle on the mic they can shove it



'Cause this is my job and Goddamn it, I love it



Producers hear my tracks and turn a shade of envy green



'Cause have you ever sampled from Stanley Turrentine?



I doubt it you'll get routed 'cause the shit that I flip



Is like a stack of fecal pancakes here's my syrup let it drip



Other lyricists are hearing this and pissing in they pants



Scared of the small guy in the kick-your-ass stance



Dance if you want to, but let me spin the vinyl



I can work a crowd like college kids at finals



You wanted a piece of me, see what your luck did?



Grab yourself a Stairmaster and step up, kid



When they hear me rhyming, brothers catching woodies: lumber's fun



So chop a cherry tree and lie for number one