Bad Mutha

[Verse 1: Lord Finesse]

Turn up the radio, better yet the phonograph

And I'mma school the suckers who don't know the half

I'm not a legend, I'm real and actual

Bite my rhymes, I get mad and come after you

I don't front or pretend 'cause that's imaginary

I get funky with the use of vocabulary

I'm more deadlier than a bottle of cyanide

When I dig in my brain and say a fly rhyme

I might bust and say a little somethin'

Get the party pumpin', yo, that ain't nothin'

So don't bore me, I've been naughty

Even as a kid people said: "Look at shorty"

Back in the days I had much attention

Speak of competition... man, listen

Even then I've coulda been a funky star

At the age of 12 I was rhymin' on them monkey bars

A little kid with the art of poetry

Nice for my age, but nobody noticed me

Nowadays I tell it like it is

That makes my skill different from her or his

I sport my skills on a FM frequency

Lettin people know you better not sleep on me

I'm known as a smooth cool brother

A funky technician, call me a (bad mutha)

[Verse 2: Lord Finesse]

I play MCs like a game of Mario Brothers

I hold my own plus I can carry another's

Rhymes I make strong and watch 'em take form

On a sucker who steps out his face wrong

I'm the MC to fear and run from

Shockin' so much you think I'm usin' a stun gun

I hold the title 'cause I'm a cool champ

If rap was money you'd be rated as a food stamp

You try to boast and toast, you go by what name?

You can't get with Finesse, you're just chump change

You couldn't cut it even if you had a hack-saw

You're just a rap that I laid a track for

'Cause records get mixed up, foes get ripped up

If a mic was a freak, I'd get my tip sucked

So girls, don't sleep, don't even doze off

I'm good with a mic, plus I'm good with my clothes off

And I'm no joke, far from a slow poke

I school the young bucks plus school the old folks

I got stamina, lyrical examiner

Moppin', sweep up rappers just like a janitor

Lord Finesse parallel to no other

The smooth lover, and also the (bad mutha)

[Verse 3: Lord Finesse]

At a show I get fly and so legit

Gimme a mic on stage and that's all over with

On a stage I'm straight up wildin'

I can kick a party like a brother from the Shaolin Temple

I find it simple

I get the ladies 'cause they sweat my dimples

Me take a loss? Not by a long shot

Get off the tip 'cause you jumped on the wrong jock

Of the wrong man put up on the wrong scoop

You got problems, what you're on, troop?

Raise up, I light the whole stage up

So wild with the mic, I oughta be caged up

I'm a brother you dare not lay a hand on

I leave you more bloodier than a tampon

If you split, I'mma get you later

Rhymes more fresher than a virgin in a 'frigerator

Take caution to what this brother say

Come correct or turn around the other way

(Bad mutha) is the perfect description

Of me rhymin' or just plain flippin'

I'm no joke when it comes around to that

I start flippin' when I hear the sound of rap

I'm enhanced to keep in step with it

And surprise MCs 'cause you slept a bit

So wake up, my man 'cause there's no time for dozin'

My thoughts are set, and a rhyme has been chosen'

From my brain which makes me insane

To gain some fame, Lord Finesse is the name

To seek and blame 'cause I came and rearranged

My style of rap will make suckers wanna leave the game

I'm superior compared to others

Call me Lord Finesse, better yet make it (bad mutha)