Jazz Rendition by Odd Squad Lyrics
[Intro]
And it's like that for the nine trey. Check the script nigga
[Verse One: Blind Rob]
From the ash on my toes to the stubble on my chin
Here's the beat and the cuts [?] brought out of my pen
When I be cooling in my [?]
You better step the fuck back
Shoot like a gat got more swing than a black jack
Cause I hit hard like an automobile accident
[?]
And all the hip hop and records on the count of three
I never claimed to be the perfect or the best MC
But I just flaunt the styles to let you know that I can wreck it
I make you say, "Hmm? What? Hold up a second."
And just give me the mic, get up [?]
[?] to the back of your brain
So who me? The real G
Be like the next man, I can't stand to be like Mike
You got me fucked up with the next man
So ah, give me the [?]
And kick the fly shit, vibe shit in the nine trey fools
So now you know how I flow and watch me go
Step back and give me some room or watch the Quest after show
From the east coast down to Louisiana
[?] but don't dance like the Hammer
But I slam a microphone check one, two
You wonder how I do it, lay down the Squad [?]
You call me off beat
You call me unique
Whatever the case may be, it's like this see you on the jazz rendition
[Verse Two: Blind Rob]
It's the Quest who wanna flex so bring the tec's
When I kill an MC I go to the next
Buck buck yo' ass down with the motherfucking one, two
Step up in the square if you wanna get something bro
I don't really know why they doubt that I am skilled
Taking me for granted now what's the goddamn deal? Huh
They just don't know that I'm a pro so there's no way that you can take me
And I don't need a hacker so don't even try to fade me
Damn it seems I have to prove myself every motherfucking day
You made me talk this way
So back off, slack off, let me get my nuts off
I take you and your crew to eat a dick and make you break north
Raise about me son I ain't scared to get 'em up
You feel froggy jump, I break you off something fucked up
But don't get me wrong I ain't gon' lie, I ain't no tough guy
Just a kid getting paid for being real fly
I'll let you know that I'm the shit
With a forty ounce of Bull and a ten bag of floppy discs
Sitting in the room making beats all day
Like my man Showbiz we be Diggin In The Crates
Styles finds a break and then we scoop it
Lay it down on the EPS and loop it
How's about that? It's phat, you like yo you gotta have it G
Five bills for my man and the other half for me
Yeah, on the jazz rendition
[Outro]
And I'd like to give shouts out to my nigga. DJ Styles. Peace. My man DJ Premier at GangStarr. What up? And oh yeah, hahahah...Mike Dean...you funky playing bitch you. What up? Hahah. Yeah. Let me see. To the hood. Of course the hood. Let me see. Somebody else I forgot. Oh yeah. My man N.O. Joe. And I'm outta like 8-Track tapes. Peace!
[Devin The Dude]
After this big ole' square we'll be right back
And it's like that for the nine trey. Check the script nigga
[Verse One: Blind Rob]
From the ash on my toes to the stubble on my chin
Here's the beat and the cuts [?] brought out of my pen
When I be cooling in my [?]
You better step the fuck back
Shoot like a gat got more swing than a black jack
Cause I hit hard like an automobile accident
[?]
And all the hip hop and records on the count of three
I never claimed to be the perfect or the best MC
But I just flaunt the styles to let you know that I can wreck it
I make you say, "Hmm? What? Hold up a second."
And just give me the mic, get up [?]
[?] to the back of your brain
So who me? The real G
Be like the next man, I can't stand to be like Mike
You got me fucked up with the next man
So ah, give me the [?]
And kick the fly shit, vibe shit in the nine trey fools
So now you know how I flow and watch me go
Step back and give me some room or watch the Quest after show
From the east coast down to Louisiana
[?] but don't dance like the Hammer
But I slam a microphone check one, two
You wonder how I do it, lay down the Squad [?]
You call me off beat
You call me unique
Whatever the case may be, it's like this see you on the jazz rendition
[Verse Two: Blind Rob]
It's the Quest who wanna flex so bring the tec's
When I kill an MC I go to the next
Buck buck yo' ass down with the motherfucking one, two
Step up in the square if you wanna get something bro
I don't really know why they doubt that I am skilled
Taking me for granted now what's the goddamn deal? Huh
They just don't know that I'm a pro so there's no way that you can take me
And I don't need a hacker so don't even try to fade me
Damn it seems I have to prove myself every motherfucking day
You made me talk this way
So back off, slack off, let me get my nuts off
I take you and your crew to eat a dick and make you break north
Raise about me son I ain't scared to get 'em up
You feel froggy jump, I break you off something fucked up
But don't get me wrong I ain't gon' lie, I ain't no tough guy
Just a kid getting paid for being real fly
I'll let you know that I'm the shit
With a forty ounce of Bull and a ten bag of floppy discs
Sitting in the room making beats all day
Like my man Showbiz we be Diggin In The Crates
Styles finds a break and then we scoop it
Lay it down on the EPS and loop it
How's about that? It's phat, you like yo you gotta have it G
Five bills for my man and the other half for me
Yeah, on the jazz rendition
[Outro]
And I'd like to give shouts out to my nigga. DJ Styles. Peace. My man DJ Premier at GangStarr. What up? And oh yeah, hahahah...Mike Dean...you funky playing bitch you. What up? Hahah. Yeah. Let me see. To the hood. Of course the hood. Let me see. Somebody else I forgot. Oh yeah. My man N.O. Joe. And I'm outta like 8-Track tapes. Peace!
[Devin The Dude]
After this big ole' square we'll be right back