Battle (Soundtrack Version) Lyrics & Tabs by Gang Starr
Battle (Soundtrack Version)
guitar chords lyrics
What you wanna battle me?
Yo man, how much money you got?
What you wanna battle me?
Yo man, how much money you got?
I used to guzzle 40's and own a beat-up Caddy
Since the hood still love me I turn the heat up, daddy
I went to mackin fly honies on the train
To straight relaxin on the beach countin money gettin brains
Soon as you rappers get a chance you wanna floss a lot
You buy a iced-out watch because it cost a lot
Then you in the club stylin with dough
Profilin' with ho's we boned a while ago
You rookies haven't done enough laps around the track
You had one hot single but then your album sounds whack
Son, you bore me with your war stories
You rookies haven't done enough laps around the track
You had one hot single but then your album sounds whack
Son, you bore me with your war stories
You ain't even do that shit, so that's just more stories
How you expect us to take you seriously
The look in my eye, punk, has got you scared of me
I'm blasting your sons, I'm snatching your funds
You get your royal ass-whooping, you been asking for one
About to slap rappers around, bruise the game
Be thorough to the end
You man feel the drill
About to slap rappers around, bruise the game
What you wanna battle me?
Yo man how much money you got?
Bitch, you don't even know the half about me
I bring it straight to your chest, ask your staff about me
I'm just a little bit older, plus a whole lot wiser
I might advise ya or I might pulverise ya
I can visit any city, get respect in the streets
While you're alone in your room, scared to death of the streets
I take a second to speak, I keep my weapon in reach
I ain't talkin romance but you'll get swept off your feet
I keeps this ghetto chick that loves to blast that metal shit
Groupies fake moves I get her to settle shit
You can't compare to this status right here
Legendary worldwide, we can battle right here
Listen junior, I'ma tear back your wig
This ain't TV but I'll show you what a Fear Factor is
Stop grillin me and all that frontin is killing me
You leave me no choice but to hurt your feelings, G
About to slap rappers around, bruise the game
Be thorough to the end
You man feel the drill
About to slap rappers around, bruise the game
What you wanna battle me?
Yo man how much money you got?
