Letra The undisputed champs (featuring pep love & q-tip) Del tha Funkee Homosapien

The undisputed champs (featuring pep love & q-tip)

[Del]
Up front, introducing my man Pep Love
[Pep Love]
My introduction:
It's such an unbelievable pleasure
For you to treasure;
And much needed too
Make it phat though
On another plateau-
You begining to begining to groove;
I do it natural
As we get Jazzy with classy shit
To make them hard ass rappers wanna blast me (buck buck)
Cause I exemplify a typified mac
In actin like the shit nigga
Mashin rappers with a passion
When I get Tip and Tribe flashion lyrics
I smash your spirits
Like a big disappointment
But this here shit will surprise ya
Devise a plan:
The pipsqueaks get tweaked
Cause of the size of demand
So if you wanna measure up
Then press your luck
Cause when I'm in the cut
Man there ain't no catchin up
I bet ya never heard a nigga with a bigga this flow
Bigga this bro
Gettin ate like a clitoris?
No.
I never could'a seen it-
I rip a rapper's balls off
To make him scream when it's convenient.
Hear ye hear ye
Clearly we're the
Undisputed ones that you get mad at when you hear me
Pompous comp. just barely even registered on the meter
Cause we the niggas that they checkin for
Me and you or, you and him
Ruinin' them
Doin men in
When I'm cluing them in
On the one
[Del]
Ya two... three, four
[Q-Tip]
Now niggas know I got lyrics out the anal
And any move that you make could be fatal
The poet that shows it:
And some of y'all niggas know it when ya
Grab the mic and you can't recite
Yo that gets me irate when ya can't debate
But wait- Now ya niggas think that I'm ya runnin' mate?
Naw phukk that, 'cause when I grab the baton I'm gone (zoom)
All around the track like a runnin maniac (damn)
You babblin your babblin son; what the phukk?
Anybody here rap that doesn't go buck?
But can you grab the mic and kick I'll shit? (like)
Stun'em with the verbs, instead of using clips.
Check it: I flip styles by the dozen;
I-could-even-[too fast] that I was but I wasn't
You MC's are slipping into rigor mortis
Give it up please
And just support this;
I got styles that are legendary
Even in the clink
Lyrically I'm like,
What the phukk you think?
Cause I'm down with the D-E-L
So what the hell?
[Del]
(Haha!)
I never come from the temple a simple rap
Cause your raps poor
I'm on track
I lap yours
Collapse yours
Elapse forever
You're never gonna get better bitin' my friend
But I lend a hand helping
MC's yelping like puppies (Arf! Arf!)
Their rhymes are simple
My rhymes are roughed up
Like a duffle bag
Mags on my wheels squeal
Peel out towards your head
While others bust lead
That's dead
I beat your head in the resin when the pipe hits the buds in my
Chamber
My rhymes are never tamer
Perpetrators I'ma hurt ya later/after
On the path of danger
I got fangs not bangs
Like a bitch which I use to puncture
With punctuation-
And mutation
Racin' like my thoughts
Bust shots to scatter
And my latter lets me elevate
Over MC's that are hella fake
My reaction to your rappin' is laughin
It has been for askin they get their ass kicked
Cause they're plastic
I'm bringing lyrical lacerations
That you're tastin
Painful I mame foes
Metaphorically
Historically used the hip hop
To make your neck pop
Naw the eyes cause I kick the modern style
(Modern style, haha!)
[Cut:]
The undisputed ones that you get mad at
The undisputed ones that you get mad at
The undisputed ones that you get mad at
When you . . . grab the mike and you can't recite