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young black teenagers - korner groove lyrics
yo ata grab the trashcan kick up a beat
yo better yet kg pop the trunk of the jeep
i’m wit it, you wit it? i’m wit it
you wit it? i’m wit it
yo, let the drummer get wicked, kick it!
yes- it’s tommy never as a tom’s tom
tommy gun, tom cat… with the lyrical combat
makin a statement, gettin a payment
everyday since age of… 1, 2
well we’re the 3 on the mic the 3 that you like
the 1, 2, 3 mcs that don’t bite
but get bitten as it’s written down
and when we’re gettin down mcs should be sittin down
cause he tremble when i pick up a shovel
dig up a b-ss and treble tone
make up a rebel moan, master of a ceremony
not a fake, or phoney, they only know me as the epitome
it’ll be hard to get rid of me
as they pour like water from a spout
i like a bottle of guinness stout goin straight to my mouth
standin on a corner, goin buckwild
standin on a corner, kickin freestyle
standin on a corner… me and the crew just rhymin
standin on a corner, uh with the old gold shinin
yes yes y’all, a yes yes y’all
a yes yes, a yes, a yes, a yes yes y’all
a yes yes y’all, a yes yes y’all
a yes yes, a yes, a yes, a yes yes y’all
well i’m the f the i the r the s the t the b the o the r the n
the first of all, the worst of all
and worst of all we sound this dope without rehearsin y’all
cause i detect, deflect, protect with my intellect
when i swarm above the norm
cause a storm, word is bond, i’m firstborn
tommy never get on the mic and give what you’re quotin
each verse like biblical scripture
girls fainted cause our rhymes were painted like a picture
girls address, carress and molest me
i don’t mind cause i find that a blessing
everybody say ho, ho, we got a ho in the house
yo kam send her to my house
since there’s no tonic for the chronic flu
kamron get on the mic while i get some chicken
soup- never, just a fist of clever
it’s the k to the a with firstborn and tommy never
i switch my mic to automatic, matic
take a lyric and a brother we’re static, static
takin it down into to the break of dawn, and breakin on
those who are fakin on and they makin strong
song that cling strong like king kong
ny teenagers sing song, we’re guzzin a…
standin on a corner, goin buckwild
standin on a corner, kickin freestyle
standin on a corner… me and the crew just rhymin
standin on the corner, uh with the old gold shinin
yes yes y’all, a yes yes y’all
a yes yes, a yes, a yes, a yes yes y’all
yes yes y’all, a yes yes y’all
a yes yes, a yes, a yes, a yes yes y’all
we want you all to know, the teenagers run the show
so get get on the floor, and check out the rhymes galore
6-4-2 and, the funky rhyme is booin
so p-ss the forty around the crew and start movin groovin
there isn’t a poet, the style- i flow it
the cut you dread, the rhyme i said, let my locks to grow it
the live i dough it, the mic- better believe i throw it
my knot- i fold it, your girl- i ho it, you can’t control it
and p-ssin it to mars so act like you know it
raisin the bar, no shorts, with an attitude
groove to a move that’s blue to a new
cause society’s pit falls sick and to seven more
guns and napalm, above the law, gone
path of a devil well i roll a row mack
refuse to lose so i choose to keep
the young black teenagers we bring the new age
new style, the rule, the facts, and i’m rehearsin
the k-a-m-r-o-n
mackin attack, incite respect and never wack, and firstborn
come on torn they warn, tommy never’s endeaver
(??????)
no, hmmmm, i didn’t think so, so here we go
givin and doin and thinkin and provin the facts, that we’re wild
so we get wild for a while, mafioso style
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