Stryper

Stryper - A lyrics

[Intro/Chorus:]

C'mon wit da c'mon, git down wit da git down [x4]

[Verse One: El Da Sensai]

C'mon and get down with that Artifacts sound

Where kids get wreck and, the beat's bound to pound

We're strollin through the industry B, see we gotta be

the next shit that kicks, cause brothers ain't got it

In this rap shit, ain't no time for the dilly-dally

pally throw a match in the Gasoline Alley

Blew up mad spots, kids were jealous for the props

See the shit never stops Hobbes, just lookin for my dillz-knot

Styles we make, never fake, broke breaks in every crate

Old freestyles and dirty ass copied-over tapes

Notified that, the Artifacts never slack

While crews is on stage wack, we just play the back

Now, the flip tripper ripper slits ya wit da mixture

All crews, who never paid dues, watch it 'fore I get ya

Cause nowadays, it's da ways, of the underground

but they're wack now, so c'mon wit da git down

[Chorus]

[Verse Two: Tame One]

You know the stacks, if not, then ask some niggaz who heard of me

The half on the Artifacts of Jersey

Cause brothers be buggin not givin love to the nuccas

Sayin fuck us, cause we be shinin brighter than the suckers

Shootin me prison nobody listens to your dissin

Cause yo my shit's legit and as a lyricist I'm hittin

the high note, so why don't, I smile when I take pictures

Cause now that I rock I got more niggaz on my jock than bitches

I just wanna do my jams with fams and slam into some hypeness

But biters and backstabbin rappers don't even like us

But props due, peep The Source RapPages and the Billboard

And read about the tours while you be flappin your jaws

I freak techniques, cause talk is cheaper than beepers from Broad Street

Punks talk junk, Tame and the Sensai leave em all beat

So peep how deep my technique freaks and how my shit sounds

C'mon wit da c'mon, git down wit da git down

[Chorus]

[Verse Three: MC El, Tame One]

Hold up, you rap sucker duck, buck, the track's rough enough

to prove a point, that the niggaz is the joint

Magazines where we're seen, now pop the tape in your deck

I got the Heavy Ammunition cuz I'm Flexi Wit Da Tech

Niggaz, can't believe the Artifacts acheive

Got, tricks up my sleeve so bow down on your knees

Yo, we ain't got the same lame, ordinary plain game

Put to shame any crew who wants to feel the flame

So bring submission to the rap recognition

My right hand is itchin from the shit that I'm scriptin

So pass the baton, to the next runner up, Tame

I give a pound so, c'mon wit da git down

Aiyyo, word to my grandma's tampons, I drop bombs, but since

our demo tracks had gaps some said my fat raps was half-assed

Watchin others rock and clock we shocked em like a robot

with our props, so now the Notty Head Niggaz got more knots yo

My pockets are lumpy chump, my drunk style is trunky dunk

My disc in crisp, put funk in funk like Humpty Hump

Cuz I'm comin from the underground I'm down wit da git down

MC's who used to diss us, get pissed cause they ain't shit now

The Artifacts, represent on every stage we step on

The days of gettin slept, are dead because we keep on

peepin these weak MC's, who cheese with their bologny

Cause they're phony as fuck, and couldn't pull shit off a tow truck

So yo bro, now you know my flow so go and sit down

or c'mon wit da c'mon, git down wit da git down

[Chorus x2]

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