Rhymefest - Dynomite (Going Postal) lyrics

Just Blaaaaze!

Wait hold the phone, muh'fucker pass the mic

Spread the word like Pastor Ike, this ain't mass but like

We ain't congregatin, mashin tonight

The boys in blue, I'll show you what the brass is like

The perfect storm, like when disaster strike

Or Knievel when he crashed his bike

I'm the ashy type, like the knuckles on an inmate locked up

'Cept I stay on the grind, my "Blue Collar" popped up

Blue collar rap, why I call it that?

Shit I know my real niggaz that U-Haul done hauled back

You ain't a stand up man? Well you fall and crawl back

You a long distance thug, the fuck you call that?

See - this is how a track should pound

And if King was alive this is how he would sound

"You a soft-ass nigga, you a mark, you a gump

Fuckin lame, you a coward, you a punk, you a chuuump"

I'm the light, I'm the fuse, Rhyme-F-E-S-T

I'm {"Dy-no-mite!"}

Niggaz runnin for cover from the fallin debris

I'm {"Dy-no-mite!"}

Explosive, nigga blowin up the streets

I'm {"Dy-no-mite!"}

I'm the keg, I'm the powder, I'm the fuse, I'm the lighter

If it look like a fire I'm {"Dy-no-mite!"}

You would never stand the challenge

What the preacher preachin what the teacher taught

I dropped out of school, stayed on the street and fought

Like Disciples! Jeffrey manner to be exact

Where how you wear yo' hat made you prone to attack

Made you, made you, made you go and get a strap

And keep you bustin 'til your enemies was gone from the map

Like a killer or a man or a giant when I stand

Open my palm bitch, I got the world in my hand

Got a gun and a plan, I got the bible and the Qu'ran

I got a bomb like I live in Iran

I got niggaz to ride with me, hold me down in the street

And deep down I wonder if they the beast, I mean

I mean the police, the feds that police them street

Get in the studio, then try to influence my speech

Like a rat stool pidgeon or a mark or a gump

Fuckin lame, you a coward, you a punk, you a chump

You would sell your own momma for a piece of a crumb

A piece of the crunk, that ain't even where you from

Youse a follower (what~!) that's right, a fuckin follower

Probably wearin a wire, so I don't even talk to ya

You think these niggaz is thugs, they officers

Call the oficers, tell 'em get 'em officers, 'fore I show you

'Bout a killer or a man or a giant when I stand

Open my palm bitch, I got the world in my hand

Got a gun and a plan, I got the Torah and the Qu'ran

I got your toddler in the back of a van

I got a hostage and a list of demands, I gotta gotta

'bout a thousand dollars say you couldn't sit where I stand

All these niggaz that spit threats, hoes that get wet

My style's runnin to the toilet, you ain't seen shit yet

Yet, yet and still I keep it hot like, Mexican meals

I got a Cadillac stretch Deville

I can show you how to flip for real

Gangsters don't hold the rock, but they know how to flip it and chill

Dime bag-ass niggaz ain't large

When the Patriot Act come hit they ass with the terrorist charge

And we, is what they made it fo'

You think it's all about Arabs? It's a war on the po', we gotta go

Like a killer or a man or a giant when he stand

Open your palm bitch, we got the world in our hand