Aceyalone

Aceyalone - Golden Mic lyrics

Yeeees, man

But I'm not a yes-man

Who am I?

I'm that nigga with the golden mic, I hold it tight

When it's open mic it's like it's broken mic

Smokin mic, the word is spoken tight

Golden mic, I hold it tight

When it's open mic it's like it's broken mic

Smokin mic, the word is spoken tight

Now it don't really matter

Who's the first or the second batter

What you got mixed in your batter

I'm finna drop that fatter data

Look, I ain't really ever told y'all this

But I got a hit with the ultimate twist

Looka here, listen up clear

Niggas been bitin my shit for years

Mousekateer turned muskateer wanna bust in here

I don't think so, the golden mic belongs to me

The flow sounds dope but the song is free

Damn, these fools sound wrong to me

What's the definition of a strong MC?

Let's take MC such-and-such

Wanna freestyle but he doin too much

Here's another blunt, take another puff

Keep on smokin till you high enough

Maybe y'all can fall in y'all zone

If all y'all got a little more stoned

Ring-ding-ding - what's callin? The phone

Hello, who this? (It's Aceyalone)

"Aceyalone? What to do?

Hang up on the motherfucker, fuck that fool"

Said he wants all the styles you took

Nigga actin like he wrote the book

By the tone of his voice he soundin shook

Then he put the phone back on the hook

One of these things I've grown to learn

A lotta fools choke when it's on they turn

I know that I shouldn't even be concerned

But I gotta lotta MC's to burn

Could be you or the one you with

When it comes to this you ain't runnin shit

When I come through the sun is lit

And when I come through I come to spit

On the golden mic, I hold it tight

When it's open mic it's like it's broken mic

Smokin mic, the word is spoken tight

Golden mic, I hold it tight

When it's open mic it's like it's broken mic

Smokin mic, the word is spoken tight

Now who done put they fingers in my candy jar?

Now I know I ain't the man from Mars

Let's go upon on em, there they are

Hey you, yeah you, with the micro

Where the hell you get that tight flow?

He said, "Ah, this just hydro

Still tryina get that nitro"

Psycho-alpha-disco-beta

I'm South of Frisco in South Central

Servin perpetrators

I guess I'm a fanatic

You want that shit, I have it

See, I don't want no static

But it's a-u-t-o-matic

See, you you wanna play boss hog

Runnin 'round like a lost dog

Comin up short like a pollywog

Go crawl back

Thinkin it's all good when it's all bad

Projectile blow this

You see, my style's the oldest

I give em what they need, I plant that seed

And watch it grow like a lotus

See, it told y'all this in the scripture

Right after I slipped ya

Some of this dope, I took your picture

To remember how I ripped ya

See, I'm aimin while it's rainin

And see, you just complainin

Sayin when my boat gon' come in?

Muthafucka, it already came in

When I get this mic adjusted

Watch how I bust it

Get these niggas disgusted

It's a reason why I'm trusted

With the golden mic, I hold it tight

When it's open mic it's like it's broken mic

Smokin mic, the word is spoken tight

Golden mic, I hold it tight

When it's open mic it's like it's broken mic

Smokin mic, the word is spoken tight

Let's drop it, same topic

Yo, come on, homie, now stop it

Why should I put the mic in yo hands if you can't even rock it?

You gotta dig in deep, no time to sleep

When they play the beat, gotta bring in the heat

Tell em what they know, what they don't know

What they wanna hear, what they fear, what they want, need

You can be down, just don't deceive

Got a whole lotta tricks up my sleeve

Might say somethin that you don't believe

But the show ain't over until I leave

I don't need no intro, no outro, in essential

Just my utensils and my instrumental

Understood, now overstood

It's about 50 rappers per hood

Bring the woodpecker, I bring the wood

And we can chop it up like you know we should

Cause in these last days I'ma watch these rappers cascade

You need first aid when the verse is laid

All over your mascarade

So let this be a lesson

To all you fools that's flexin

You want next in

Better come with perfection

On the golden mic, I hold it tight

When it's open mic it's like it's broken mic

Smokin mic, the word is spoken tight

Golden mic, I hold it tight

When it's open mic it's like it's broken mic

Smokin mic, the word is spoken tight

Yeah

Ha-ha

Now

We are

Have always been

Have always had the champion sound

The originators

Of this here

Now y'all can have it now

Y'all can go take it and spread it out to the industry

But this where it started

Freestyle Fellowship, Project Blowed

Massmen

And I am

Aceyalone

Ace One!

And ya don't stop

Ha-ha

A-and you don't stop

Fatjack

Always comes with the fat tracks

We cater to the deejays

We cater to the emcees

We cater positivity

We cater to the love of hip-hop

Alright, righteous

YEEEEES MAN

But I'm not a yes-man

Get this song at:  amazon.com sheetmusicplus.com

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