Once Upon a Time

I'm on a mission

I hold the pen and stay twisted

The competition my street cats will stay listening (word up)

Detroit to New York I still walk the walk

Control dancehall, chillin in my b-boy stance y'all

Never was known to be an emcee

I still rip and flip crowds into a frenzy

Reciting facts shit, and it's like herbs to bite

Bum rushing mic tec playing slowly at night

Coincide with the mic take flight above shores (word of mouth)

I separate mines from yours

I look ya up and as I stare in your face

Your big mind's on a hum hum

The one you got your idea from

Yeah I'm right here son, straight out the slum

Makin tracks for dough, gettin paid to do shows

So when I blow (what) the niggas respect my flow

Ay yo I'm nice with the pill and I rock with Slum Vill

Ay yo, you want flows? We got tons of them

Pete, Slum and Tim trying to bank shit like the Huntington

Get that money and dip

Flash the cash in front of them

Niggas gruntin' and shit

Sayin' nothin I'm done with them

Oh yo! Peeps ain't got a hold they gun on them

Cause if one of them cats jump, we all jumpin' in

Believe that!

We got somethin' for the some dumb

Bubble yum chewin that don't know what they doin' with this rap shit

Rap tactics automatic and the fact is y'all know you bored with the wack shit

We got that phat shit that auto and

Track shit and when you hear it man I don't know how to act, shit

It's like the first related verse and now we rock with the beat

Just another causality for S and the V

It's like action is what we give and receive

Best do believe we got some shit up our sleeves

Shit to dance to, some shit to the trees

Some shit if you dyin' and they help you breathe

Make a handicap nigga exceed with speed

It's like totally with Toronto to V

Doin this for DET in the place to be

Can't forget the rest R, O,I, and T

Mac Nicholas baby, what else could it be?

Please, lace me with a scratch for the beat

In the beginning, it was the S, never no name shit

Motherfuckers traveled for miles to Mac Nick

We kick rhymes we know they never sound like yours

To the mic lookin' like cheap thoughts

Fuck this rap shit, I'm too smart for that

I do this shit for kicks with my crew, believe that

The S is on the way to makin' emcees quick

I shoot the kinda rhymes to make the emcees duck

On the mic I never fight I call an angel of war

Slice an emcee with my palm, a lyrical sword

You really want a bottle? You must be ill

Well it's the S, numero uno, I'm in your favorite

The negroes make the music that you run out to get

Now this is love at the less, new bomb shit

Mac Nicholas is earnin' money on some burner shit

What, Slum Vill and we out

No doubt for 98

Settin ya straight

Getcha self laced

Peace