Masta Ace Incorporated - Boom Bashin' lyrics

Here comes the boom, with the hip hop bash as I smash and crash

How many gangsta rappers are gonna last?

Not one, they got done, I had fun

doin em and screwin em and booin em and chewin em

I'm slick and I'm quick, up my sleeve is a trick

Hey! So what, I use funky drummers, suck my dick.

I'm still thick, with murderous beats and heavy kick

and I'm sick of the so-called shots ya gonna lick

I slam and I slam and I slam, did I mention that I slam

don't eat spinach but I yam what I yam

death-defyin like a circus, I work this

mic, you can't jerk this, off-beat on purpose

I never smoke dope, I don't carry a nine

I ain't no hustler with bitches on my mind

gangstas are swimming in the water,

I oughta, boom bash and slaughta

I'ma break it down, and I do mean down, yo way down,

so far downtown the devil's gonna call it underground

and niggaz betta know the fuckin score

cuz I'm raw, like eddy,

and like confetti they get tore

up, from the floor, up,

there's no time

and my spits gettin sprayed in ya face as I rhyme

so run run run, ya better head for the hills

get ya gun gun gun, and ya cyanide pills

and a rope for ya neck, and a razor for your wrists

cuz I'm pissed, and it's suicide to battle this

ummm, highly explosive, material

grand imperial, pour me on cereal

cuz I flow from the belly of a cow

wipe ya brow, how ya like me now

You can get with this, or you can get with that

but you can't get with the man with the mad snap hat

I take em out with one blow to the cerebellum

and tell 'em, my jams are so funky you can smell 'em

rhyme for rhyme, head for head with a one go

i come from brooklyn, it's wild like a jungle

yeah, you might get a cap jack, ya act wack,

I carry a can of flat black in my napsack

lookin for a wall to tag up, and brag up

and rag up, yo nigga yo digga raise the flag up

I click click my heels, and good is how it feels

there's no place like home and chrome on ya wheels

chasin through the projects, I lose you

hope I didn't bruise you, I cruise through

your neighborhood, in a chevrolet impala

dropped to the ground and, makin the girls holla

rollin, rollin, rollin, I'm rollin

sorry officer, the car ain't stolen

i really don't care what you thought of me

i oughta be, far from orderly

in my fashion, i boom and i bash and