Blowin Up The Spot Songtext

[guru]
Ah so now ya got me pissed off, blast off lift off
Time for me to twist off a vocal fist off
Into your domepiece, homepeace, I heard your chick wants to bone me
I get, wild like rugby, respected like bugsy
Dont even ask me, cause Im livin lovely
Born to succeed, foes bleed, true indeed
The oral combat will romp that, your one of my seeds
When I first, busted on the scene
Nigga, you knew I had more than a gangsta lean
rorfp?hlge! rrfp
I mean my lean is gangsta though so check it
Ill stick an mc for his spot and sign in blood on his wack record
Boo-ya-ka, to your face as I ruin ya
Clown ya, dumbfound ya, while Im screwin the
Fuck out cha girl as she steps into my world
Im not the tallest, but that ass Ill polish
And if the hooker runs her mouth she gets cut off
But then youll sweat her, cause like my leather youre butter soft
Your style stinks kid, ya garbage
And if you keep talkin shit, ima make ya pay homage
Cause the g to the u to the r-u, came too far to
Let you slide through, rhymes will scar you
And who the **** are you anyway?
I catch more wreck in a minute than if you rhyme for ten days
Throw the cash in the pot
You betta dash nigga, cause Im blowin up the spot

Im bout to blow the **** up

[guru]
No ex-capin the explosion, those who are dozin, I close in
Set the thermostat at sub-zero, theyre frozen
Extreme temperatures from my mic, stuns amateurs
Unable to conquer the gang, I aint mad at cha
Peace to jeru, the big shug and the group home
Keepin it real, no playin niggaz or chrome
Im way past the kid shit, brothers already did shit
You want some props? yo dog, heres a biscuit
Im a smooth nigga and my grooves bigga, move nigga
And we dont care whos wit cha, got the picture?
And you dont wanna hear the burners go pop
Gang starr mother****er, what, blowin up the spot

Im bout to blow the **** up

[guru]
I go from one format then switch to the next
Reflex sets the pitch vocals rip through projects
Crazy shouts are heard all around
Cause the gangstarr sound carries more weight per pound
I got some brand new timbs, so emcees sing new hymns
You betta repent, come correct, represent
Or get stomped, smacked and slapped, cap peeled back
I got you open, and now you cling to my sac
Get off, hands off, stay off, youre way off
You rookie mother****ers its the finals not the playoffs
Ill break you up into particles, to small pieces
Because your brain is miniscule
You little fool, come learn the tools of the trade
I made the rules so go to school and get played
Just when youre thinkin that your jam is hot
Up steps the niggaz who be blowin up the spot

Gang Starr Blowin Up The Spot songtext