Microphone Master (41st Side Remix)

Chorus: Das Efx & Mobb Deep

Miggity microphone master, funky rhyme maker

Miggity microphone master, and we the niggas making paper

Miggity microphone master, yeah about to get live

Striggity straight from the sewer and the 41st side

Verse One: Prodigy

The Infamous Mobb and Das now listen

Stick you for the only pot you got to piss in

Rapping school, keep the key in the ignition

When we get back nigga, we shine and glisten

Your seven do his thing with percision

No time for broke living, I'm trying to see addition

Food to fill my kitchen

So faggot kids snitch and give info

Do a drive by in a stolen black Pinto

With tinted windows, bullets will flury through your system

Your man ran looking for him because he missed him

But catch him on the rebound but see now

Trying to get this money or try to stop me, what's it gonna be now?

You stand up to my crew and get laid down

On the ground with teh big four pound, he hear the sound

On the other side of town, where caps get peeled

Break you off love love, give you something to feel

Das Efx, Mobb Deep, niggas holding it down

Run and flex ask MC's ?John be down?

Eager to please rap niggas get back smacked with pist-als

Forced to exile, back in the Nile

Verse Two: Dray

Well now ease up selector, I bring it on again

This is for all my niggas doing time up in the fucking pen

How y'all been? I can't forget my niggas who got left back, F that

And all my honeys chilling out in Lefrack

Sent this, we gets busy with no followers

Stomp you then you throw the towel up, make you roll the Owl up

Niggas mount up, it's the Infamous with the Sewer

Go to Queens and get my weed for one cent and ???

Check one two ah, blew ya, out the box like Stella

Coming from the under with the thunder like Shelly

Really, we coming deep just like the Mobb

Nigga, rhyming is my job but you can wind up getting robbed

Anyway, in a day, or night it don't matter

It's me that nigga P, how fick and a jibba jabba-

Jaw, we bring it raw without a doubt

It's the infamous and Das Efx here to turn it out

Chorus x2

Verse Three: Havoc

Ayo kid what you gonna do with that black deuce deuce?

Hit you up, take the cash, and slug through the roof

Taking yours to survive, it's all a matter of time

I'm snatching, living grimey, running never look back

The buddha evil got me acting like that

Life ain't a game, the streets is mortal combat

I wasn't blessed with the silver spoon

Since my born I was doomed to find to one room

Now you's a customer, copping for natural born hustlers

That's what he thought, son, stupid kid you get extorted

Stop smiling, be still don't nothing move but the money

The Infamous gat clappers and mic masters

Verse Four: Scoob

Well fuck around and I'm a higgity hit ya with hickory diculous

Sick a niggas style, twisted off the licorous

I'll figure it's the books, iggity off the hook

Holding shit down son, we keeping niggas shook

I got it made like flaunt, fatigue on

My man slipped up and got bagged for three bones

Oh my God, the squiggity squad is in the place

With the Mobb, niggas can get robbed like Mase

Taste the terror for the leather in the Beemer

The Olde E abuser, can't fuck with ?Ceeno?

The non-pop singer from the land of rock slingers

Where shit is hotter than gunsmoke from niggas glocks

I rip shit for sun so come one come all

MC's will get mad, burned like Jamal

Live in ym television from the cellar to the attic

It's the Books, crazy Dray-Z, Prodigy, and fucking Havoc and it don't stop