De Automatic (feat. Fat Joe)

[Intro]

Some fear de 'matic

Ah hah hah, heh heh heh, EHHH

Check it out

[Chorus]

Some fear de 'matic, yes de automatic

Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go have it

De automatic, get de automatic

Tonight a rapper gwan die

[Verse 1]

Crazy MCs waste they time chasin millions

While KRS-One, holds the minds of the children

I'm buildin a followin of a hundred and forty-four thousand

Chosen few heads up in project housin

A true rapper, street rapper, rappin to the center

I enter any cipher, with tales of adventure

If rappers are ridin beats like cars, I'm bendin mad fenders

Put down your mic and surrender

You's a pretender, Blastmaster KRS rules the pavement

Kickin Edutainment while you wait for your arraignment

Save it friend before your chest I cave it in

I got my way again, I'm classical like a fuckin Harley Davidson

How do you think I kick a lyrical style no end, you figure?

It's simple, I'm a rap God, and youse a nigga

Don't mean I'm bigger, it simply means I'm smarter

For starters, I come at you poetically harder

[Chorus]

De automatic, get de automatic

Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go have it

De automatic, get de automatic

Tonight a rapper gwan die

[Verse 2]

Ha hah, fake ass rapper, how you think you got juice?

When you rock a pair of panties underneath your bubblegoose (Word)

KRS-One will fuck up parties dramatically

My reflex'll slap a wack rapper automatically

When you was home witcha mother, afraid of the dark

I was sleepin out in Prospect Park

Eatin one meal every 48 hours

Writin dope rhyme styles that you now devour

Don't you realize, that I'm all about survival

I got only friends cause I KILLED all my rivals

Show up at the rhyme recitals, took they titles

From '86 to '96 completes my first cycle

[Chorus]

De automatic, get de automatic

Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go have it

De automatic, get de automatic

Tonight a rapper gwan die

[Verse 3]

I spent 40 days, and 40 nights in the wilderness

I'm hard, from head to toe yo there ain't no killin this

I wrote over 100 rap hooks

And sociological books, while you worried about your looks

Now you wanna enter the dragon in sound

But I've got the live club show locked down

Platinum and gold don't hold in my arena

You gots to keep it real on the mic, when they see ya

I manifest, in the West, the East and overseas

Division in rap is wack, and I don't know of these

I represent New York to be specific

The South Bronx, but in Japan I'm still gifted

I grab a jet and land on your set, what the fuck?

Twenty bucks for a rap show is still, twenty bucks

I start from '86, and bring you into '96

No gimmicks, tricks or lip-sync lyrics

[Chorus]

De automatic, get de automatic

Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go have it

De automatic, get de automatic

Tonight a rapper gwan die

[Outro: Fat Joe]

Yeah yeah it's the God Fat Joe

Representin the motherfuckin South Bronx

With my nigga Kris, knockin off frauds

Motherfuckers wanna do what?

Big shout out to my nigga Kenny Parker

Ill Will, BDP crew for life nigga

Norty Cotto, the Big French Productions

Of course the TAT crew, my nigga Brim

The T.S. crew, and the whole Godsville

South Bronx represent nigga, uhh

The South Bronx, the South South Bronx

South Bronx, the South South Bronx

Yeah! Uhh!