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Scenario (remix)

Here in 1992, we present, the fabulos what's the Scenario remix

Whereas there are seven MC's

Six which are in physical form, one which is in spiritual essence

And he goes by the name of, uh hood

Check the vibe, walk that ass or get got

Eff it, I lick buckshots

Hood, madman, I rip up stages

Lay down all your wages, I'm wild like Larry Davis

Extra, extra, pick up a clip

I'll tear ass out the frame and grab my dick

I'm a Rock 'em Sock 'em robot kid, I drop bombs

I'm rugged and deadly, so I shit on the petty

I baseball bat a bastard, I'm bad news

I'm crazy and clever, cut those of crews

Death on the phono, my skills are Polo

You say "Oh no" you bitch ass homo

I bag up waste, electrifyin', I'm prime-time

I slaughter a slime, I'm the greatest of all time

Sick-ass brother, nasty-ass nigga

Pump slugs in your face, and dump that ass in the river

Two tears in a bucket, fuck it, kick the can

Say what? Say what? I'm a bad, bad man

Quick is how I flip from the tip of the lip

Punchin out hits like Gladys Knight and the Pips

The five-foot assassin has just raided your area

Your booty rhymes are wack and that's the reason I ain't hearin' ya

So roll out the red carpet 'cause I'm kickin' this

Vanilla Ice platinum? That shit's ridiculous

Excuse my French, but profanity is all I knew

And to you other sellouts, oh yeah, eff you too

And let it be known, I'm not the one to step to

You're better off callin' D-Nice "To Your Rescue"

Freestyle fanatic, probably the best around

As for corny MC's, like Chuck D, I "Shut 'Em Down"

The Artical Don of hip-hop and I won't stop

The five-foot assassin' has come to wreck 'nuff shop

So do like Michael Jackson and "Remember the Time"

Put on your dancin' shoes or somethin' 'cause ya sho' can't rhyme

Big up, big up, into new identity

Next was said somethin' that complies onto me

What does it take to check a technique?

Many styles, many styles

Hostile heat, brings forth the energy

Milo in the dance is the new identity

One-two mic check, select for the ruffneck

Set 10 to 1 that I come, correct

In my cyphers on blocks, I bring box to connect with knots

So I can grow dreadlocks

Maintain to rock, don't stop the rock

Maintain to rock, don't stop the rock

Kick it right, then not, E. Watt said not

I put my mug up, but fair is fair

So C. Brown are we in the clear? Yeah

C. Brown are we in the clear? Yeah

Makin' moves y'all, moves y'all, on and on and on

Check it out, check it out, to the break of, break of dawn

Who's that, guess, one of the L.O.N.S.

And a Tribe Called Quest, East Coast to West

Remixed mad kick, more than Metallica

'Til all MC's fall like the Battlestar Gallactic

Stampin', stompin', rompin' Compton

People all over the world, I'm promptin'

Pick a style, any style, Strong Isle

Representation, sensationalization

"Scenario" for the radio, 'BLS and KISS, so

Here we go, yo, yeah

Force, Main Source LP on the rise

"In Living Color was" seen through original eyes

And I'm out like shout

Ooh ahh, ooh ahh, there it is baby pah

Lying limp on a limb, slim trim, D I am

There I am, don't run from a friend

Sight we be right, be polite for the mice

Like a like, see sick, see syke

And slip away, and off to the Poconos

Spot picked the clothes, Hype swing the pretty pose

Yamaha, hey ha may

Let's split the funk, now it all spells, hey

Enough enough, Ms. Fitted I'm with it

If I did it, I was blitted, and probably shouldn't have quit it

'Cause yo, my vocal status at Knight is like a Gladys

Bed rest, spread test, and yo I'm like the maddest

Male, not female, hail from Unidel

Bounce the b-ball 'cause beats are being yelled

In the hallways always ringing with a ho'

This one two times nine on the Scenario

Check it out, everybody, grabs the mics

Black mens gettin' hip, doin' what they like

Eight black brothers in the public eye

If you listen very close, I will tell you why

Hood, Phife, Milo, Dinco and C. Brown

Shaheed, myself, and Busta Bust Down

Will commence to rock, so bring on the flocks

In-terrogation for the knockin' of the box

The boom-box ruler, controls the medula

None come cooler, I win like Shula

So bust out the moves as you start to pursue her

Intensified mind, nine-blunt consumer

Tip will come booty, well it's only a rumor

The meaning so deep that it starts brain tumors

Peace to Hood baby from the midnight crooner

Smoke 'em up later, if not then sooner

Hey what we gon' do in ninety-two

Even though we had fun in ninety-one

Wonderful my days, all things comin' down

Run up on the new sound, leavin' cracks in the ground

What's goin on my man? God damn and now my brain is hurtin'

Listen up, Bust-up, straight gon' hit 'em then I get 'em

Rip on 'em, shit on 'em, hit on 'em, then I will sit on 'em

Open up your mouth if you want the food

To get rude, Flipmode, 'cause I'm in the mood

Ah-heh, ah-heh! Yeah man, that's how it goes

Body drippin' with blood comin' out your nose

Give me a Band-Aid, what are you askin' for?

More, only your sacred and pure

Adverse, Zig-Zag, check it came to bust a new rep

Rap, Busta Rhymes, or bust this wicked rhyme

Yeah y'all in '92, I'm packin' my roach spray, anyway

Ding-A-Ling, Tribe Called Quest, Leaders of the New School

Mad brother when stealthy

To my dragon, baby, stop whining; I see my influence still shining

More crazy in '92, uh oh, time to go, yo, that's the Scenario

Enjoy the lyrics !!!