My beats are slammin...



Verse One:



My beats are slammin from the rugged programming

My man Bob Marley hey my man I'm Jammin

You could never touch the stamina while I'm rammin the

hip hop crowd makes me rrrah rrrah rrrah

Other MC's got flipped with the ease

Beggin me for burnt cigar stop the music please

No cause I'm a PRO rap to the conVO

Make a crowd say HOE, at a strip SHOW

Represent, my name is Ason, keep calm

Rhyme's too smoky, funky like a stink bomb

Boom! Blowin up niggaz better than pullin the trigger

So you betta run for covah!

Niggaz better loosen they ass, felt the glass

A forty ounce bottle, yo yo yo yo money yo pass!

Woooh-woooh-woooh! I sweat it live

MC gonna live God? No, the nigga die

The max-imum of MC's are populating

The min-imum of those MC's are dominating

Now all and together now, to what what who?

Rhymes come stinky like a girl's poo-poo



Chorus:



Hippa to da hoppa and you just don't stoppa (2x)



Verse Two:



Ahh 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 my soul

Then I came with that old Al Green shit

Saaa-die, taught me the ballisitc

I get you blurry in your eye with a high note

down, to the Brownsville, oops you got smoked

The shit I'm droppin is stinkin up your area

When I shoot it through like a messanger carrier

I keep my breath smellin like shit so I can get

FUNKY, baby I'm not havin it



Chorus 2X



Help master! *battle ensues*

Dragon-fist!

Horse-fist!

Bastard, I didn't know who you were