[Intro] And it's like that for the nine trey. Check the script nigga [Verse One: Blind Rob] From the ash on my toes to the stubble on my chin Here's the beat and the cuts [?] brought out of my pen When I be cooling in my [?] You better step the fuck back Shoot like a gat got more swing than a black jack Cause I hit hard like an automobile accident [?] And all the hip hop and records on the count of three I never claimed to be the perfect or the best MC But I just flaunt the styles to let you know that I can wreck it I make you say, "Hmm? What? Hold up a second." And just give me the mic, get up [?] [?] to the back of your brain So who me? The real G Be like the next man, I can't stand to be like Mike You got me fucked up with the next man So ah, give me the [?] And kick the fly shit, vibe shit in the nine trey fools So now you know how I flow and watch me go Step back and give me some room or watch the Quest after show From the east coast down to Louisiana [?] but don't dance like the Hammer But I slam a microphone check one, two You wonder how I do it, lay down the Squad [?] You call me off beat You call me unique Whatever the case may be, it's like this see you on the jazz rendition [Verse Two: Blind Rob] It's the Quest who wanna flex so bring the tec's When I kill an MC I go to the next Buck buck yo' ass down with the motherfucking one, two Step up in the square if you wanna get something bro I don't really know why they doubt that I am skilled Taking me for granted now what's the goddamn deal? Huh They just don't know that I'm a pro so there's no way that you can take me And I don't need a hacker so don't even try to fade me Damn it seems I have to prove myself every motherfucking day You made me talk this way So back off, slack off, let me get my nuts off I take you and your crew to eat a dick and make you break north Raise about me son I ain't scared to get 'em up You feel froggy jump, I break you off something fucked up But don't get me wrong I ain't gon' lie, I ain't no tough guy Just a kid getting paid for being real fly I'll let you know that I'm the shit With a forty ounce of Bull and a ten bag of floppy discs Sitting in the room making beats all day Like my man Showbiz we be Diggin In The Crates Styles finds a break and then we scoop it Lay it down on the EPS and loop it How's about that? It's phat, you like yo you gotta have it G Five bills for my man and the other half for me Yeah, on the jazz rendition [Outro] And I'd like to give shouts out to my nigga. DJ Styles. Peace. My man DJ Premier at GangStarr. What up? And oh yeah, hahahah...Mike Dean...you funky playing bitch you. What up? Hahah. Yeah. Let me see. To the hood. Of course the hood. Let me see. Somebody else I forgot. Oh yeah. My man N.O. Joe. And I'm outta like 8-Track tapes. Peace! [Devin The Dude] After this big ole' square we'll be right back
Read the complete lyrics to "Jazz Rendition" by Odd Squad from the album "Fadanuf Fa Erybody" in 1994. On Lyrks you can follow along with the full text, explore the artist's discography, and discover related songs. The track is often categorized under Rap.
"Jazz Rendition" is performed by Odd Squad. from the album "Fadanuf Fa Erybody" in 1994 This page provides the full lyric text for fans who want to sing along, study the songwriting, or compare versions across releases. Lyrks organizes lyrics by artist and song slug so you can bookmark and share a stable URL.
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"Jazz Rendition" is credited to Odd Squad. Songwriting credits may include additional writers listed on the release; check the credits section on this page for linked collaborators.
"Jazz Rendition" appears on "Fadanuf Fa Erybody" in 1994.
Visit the Odd Squad artist page at /artist/odd-squad for biography, popular tracks, and links to more lyric pages.
