Hippa to da Hoppa

My beats are slamming

My beats are slamming from the rugged programming

My man, Bob Marley, hey, my man, I'm jamming

You could never touch the stamina while I'm ramming the-

Hip-hop crowd makes me rah, rah, rah

Other MCs got flipped with the ease

Begging me for mercy, gon' stop the music please

No, 'cause I'm a pro, rap to the convo

Make a crowd say ho at a strip show

Represent, my name is Ason, keep calm

Rhyme's too smoky, funky like a stink bomb

Boom, blowing up niggas better than pulling the trigger

So you better run for cover

Niggas gotta loosen they ass, felt the glass

A 40-ounce bottle, yo, yo, yo, money, yo, pass

I sweat it live

Is he gonna live, doc? No, the nigga dies

The maximum of MCs are populating

The minimum of those MCs are dominating

Now all that together now, to what? What? Who?

Rhymes come stinky like a girl's poo-poo

Hippa to da hoppa and you just don't stoppa

Hippa to da hoppa and you just don't stoppa

Ah, shit, here I go once again

Rhymes get shitty from the time that I spend

I come old like toe fungus mold

Ask my grand-pop, pop duke, gave me soul

Then I came with that old Al Green shit

Saa-die, taught me the ballistic

I get you blurry in your eye with a high note

Down, to the Brownsville, oops, you got smoked

The shit I'm dropping is stinking up your area

When I shoot it through like a messenger carrier

I keep my breath smelling like shit, so I can get funky

Baby, I'm not having it

Hippa to da hoppa and you just don't stoppa

Hippa to da hoppa and you just don't stoppa

Hippa to da hoppa and you just don't stoppa

Hippa to da hoppa and you just don't stoppa

♪

The Hellfire style

Dragon fist

Horse fist

Bastard, I didn't know who you were