WHO'S THAT?

SAMPLES:


L.O.B. -- DJ Premier Style



INTRO


(snippet from Muhammad Ali's press conference
before his match against George Foreman, in 1974)


I have wrestled with an alligator
I done tussle with a whale
I done handcuff lightnin'

Throw thunder in jail
Only last week, I murdered a rock
Injuried a stone

Hospitalized a brick
I'm so mean, I make medicine sick


VERSE 1

Before I released my first %#@!

As a solo kid
Before I shot vids and strolled around
With some crazy peep

Before BET told me
We lost the great Heavy D
Before wonderful chicks

Asked me to autograph their tits
I was just a shy child
Scared to face the world outside

Locked in my crib
Empty pockets, no dimes
Eager to rule this damn world

'till the farthest damn shore
!@$)got, you wanna see me poor
but you're the one who's broke

now I'm back as a giant
guns packed, spittin' fire
haters keep hatin'

I'ma smash them liars
I'm movin' on up
Ya can call me Curtis Mayfield

Ya plannin' the ambush
While I'm $#&@in' your ladies
It's too late to stop me now

I'm onto the next level
You don't see me comin'
Ya can say I'm the devil

It's been a long ride
I've come here to stay
Ain't no factory where

war machines like me are made

CHORUS


Who's that?
A crazy rhymer with a Jordan hat

Came to bring the pain in this place
Like Method Man
Who's that?

A difference maker with a microphone
All the silly haters back down
They show the white flag

Who's that?
An unbelievable competitor
Ain't no way that you can stop him

He's a terror-packin' thug
Who's that?
It's Klaus Bundy, mother$#&@er

The undefeated champion
The king is in the building


VERSE 2

Y'all hate me 'cause I curse
Talk about death and guns
But most of y'all !@#(

Don't even know where I'm from
Y'all a bunch of fake (*##$es
Cowards and phonies
Wastin' time judgin' me
Stickin' stupid labels on me

I'm bigger than life
I overshadow the moon
They should write a new Bible
Talkin' about what I do
'cause my %#@!'s never corny

first I'm calm, then I'm rowdy
spread bullets like honey
and I don't care about money
that's the real cancer
it's the root of all evil

it turns grown men
into motha$#&@in' sick hoes
that %#@! cannot buy me
that's why I call myself the realest
y'all like easy females
starvin' for a ^&@#$

I'm laid back
focused on my next moves
these clever rhymes I'm spittin'
shine more than your jewels
I ain't comin' with an Uzi
I'm comin' with a mic
You can't fool me, I'm not a stupid

I am ready for the fight

CHORUS

VERSE 3

Blame it on my momma

I'm a rhyma bringin' drama
Ya can bet some $#&@in' Dolla
I'ma smoke ya like ganja
Dwellin' in hell
While my soul resides in Heaven
I don't wanna kill ya
I just wanna make you madder

I'm chillin', you know
I bring fuss like a storm
No motha$#&@in' punk can stop my flow
So I'm comin' for you, foes
I am facin' you, no fear
Y'all ain't gonna escape, no
The $#&@in' menace is real


CHORUS (X2)

THE END