Erick Sermon!
On the beat
You gots to chill
[Scratches: DJ Ace the Cut Lieutenant]
You can't see me on the mic
You ain't fuckin' with me
[Verse 1: A-F-R-O]
Mexican mixed half black La Bamba
Black Mamba, pass the chronic
Super Stetsasonic, electronic, and ya head is bobbin’
Never be lead poppin’, I wada-da-day cause dem droppin’
Black as ever, stay feet underground
Brother fat as ever, weigh three hundred pounds
And why these people tellin’ me I need to eat my veggies?
Blown trees with many, FRO speaks it heavy
When most seek the envy, they pity on and pretend
Really, they full of bile, brother, they actin’ like a phony friend
I pen fry it when I commit to the beat, break through my X Ray
A gentle giant, but I become like T2 when my pen spray
The flow sound better and great
Cause FRO rhyme makes Mount Everest shake
So I’ma go and do my thing, no question
No second guessin’, so extra fresh and FRO
[Scratches: DJ Ace the Cut Lieutenant]
You can't see me on the mic
You ain't fuckin' with me
[Hook: A-F-R-O]
You ain't fuckin' with me
I can smash any beat
You ain't fuckin' with me
You can rhyme, you can flow
You ain't fuckin’ with me
On the mic, at a show
You ain't fuckin’ with me
[Bridge]
All the fellas say
Ha ah, ha, ah
Ay, ay
All the women say
Ha ah, ha, ah
Ay, ay
[Verse 2: A-F-R-O]
Oochie wally Oops I’m on and naughty
Recoup, I’m onto party, and whoo with a want-a-naty
The truth, and I’m bout, bout it, the youth, but I got the knowledge
The proof when I set it off in the booth, you know I got it
Give it a little razzle dazzle on the microphone
The thizzle to the fro, to spit a flow that feelin’ right at home
Y’know, FRO to be a Pimp Named Slickback
My pencil jot, plot, to make my shit aim kick back
Let’s go
My fingers get tired when breakin’ the tree
My lyrics are mine, I say what I mean
My face on the billboard, in place, Happy Gilmore
To rage rapping still course, to grace plaques and big awards
A young man can only dream, a dumb man can only bleed
A pump jam to unfold, to blow 'em back to smithereens
Rap toys that I display, clap noise and namaste
Tabloids know that I’m a Bad Boy like Michael Bay
[Scratches: DJ Ace the Cut Lieutenant]
You can't see me on the mic
You ain't fuckin' with me
[Hook: A-F-R-O]
You ain't fuckin' with me
I can smash any beat
You ain't fuckin' with me
You can rhyme, you can flow
You ain't fuckin’ with me
On the mic, at a show
You ain't fuckin’ with me
[Bridge]
All the fellas say
Ha ah, ha, ah
Ay, ay
All the women say
Ha ah, ha, ah
Ay, ay
[Verse 3: A-F-R-O]
I may go speak for certain, I lay low deep in hearses
When A-FRO spit, brother, this ain’t no Pee Wee Herman
And must I deliver twice? Bust and disfigure mics
Surely what’s the fuss, how he cuss, but the nigga nice
The happy man that I be, son looking to smash bones
Candyman when I speak blood written in black poems
Put Black Thought, Sean P, and Spike Lee in a pot
Together, you got FRO, the next best director emcee
Gone
Erick Sermon
On the beat
You gots to chill
READ MORE ABOUT A-F-R-O
