Blowin’ Up the Spot

[Verse 1] Ah, so now ya got me pissed off, blast off, lift off Time for me to twist off a vocal fist off Into your dome piece, home piece I heard your chick wants to bone me I get wild like rugby, respected like Bugsy Don't even ask me 'cause I'm livin' lovely Born to succeed, foes bleed, true indeed The oral combat will romp that, you're one of my seeds When I first busted on the scene Nigga, you knew I had more than a gangster lean I mean, my lean is gangster, though, so check it I'll stick an MC for his spot and sign in blood on his wack record Boo-ya-ka, to your face as I ruin ya Clown ya, dumbfound ya, while I'm screwin' the Fuck out your girl as she steps into my world I'm not the tallest, but that ass, I'll polish And if the hooker runs her mouth, she gets cut off But then you'll sweat her, 'cause like my leather, you're butter soft Your style stinks, kid, you're garbage And if you keep talkin shit, I'ma make you pay homage 'Cause the G to the U to the R-U came too far to Let you slide through, rhymes will scar you And who the fuck are you anyway? I catch more wreck in a minute than if you rhyme for ten days Throw the cash in the pot You better dash, nigga, 'cause I'm blowin up the spot [Chorus] I'm 'bout to blow the fuck up I'm 'bout to blow the fuck up [Verse 2] No escaping the explosion, those who are dozin', I close in Set the thermostat at sub-zero, they're frozen Extreme temperatures from my mic stuns amateurs Unable to conquer the Gang, I ain't mad at ya Peace to Jeru, the Big Shug, and the Group Home Keepin' it real, no playin' niggas or chrome I'm way past the kid shit, brothers already did shit You want some props? Yo, dog, here's a biscuit I'm a smooth nigga and my groove's bigger, move, nigga And we don't care who's with you, got the picture? And you don't wanna hear the burners go pop Gang Starr, motherfucker, what? Blowin' up the spot [Chorus] I'm 'bout to blow the fuck up I'm 'bout to blow the fuck up I'm 'bout to blow the fuck up I'm 'bout to blow the fuck up [Verse 3] I go from one format, then switch to the next Reflex sets the pitch, vocals rip through projects Crazy shouts are heard all around 'Cause the Gang Starr sound carries more weight per pound I got some brand new Timbs, so MCs sing new hymns You better repent, come correct or represent Or get stomped, smacked and slapped, cap peeled back I got you open and now you cling to my sack Get off, hands off, stay off, you're way off You rookie motherfuckers, it's the finals, not the playoffs I'll break you up into particles To small pieces because your brain is miniscule You little fool, come learn the tools of the trade I made the rules, so go to school and get played Just when you're thinkin' that your jam is hot Up steps the niggas who be blowin' up the spot