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lirik lagu the cellar session – nick wiz

nick wiz ft. ran reed ft. native assassins and mad house * “the cellar session”
[emcee(s): black sun, fatal, shabaam sahdeeq, taz, and ran reed]
[producer(s): nick wiz]

[verse 1: black sun]
mass hysteria. more emcees?
the merrier. destroy you b*st*rds like bacteria. who
said i couldn’t hit ‘em where it hurts and leave
a brother’s body with more holes than [?]? f*ck
the dumb sh*t you’re speaking. it’s reeking through my section
no protection. my heart is blacker than my complexion
act like you know, motherf*cker!
native assassins pulling off the covers—rise
and shine! yeah right, no time for bullsh*tting
through the eyes of the dead, now the mind is forbidden
you don’t know me, you jive turkey. n*gga, you irk me
i’m started, i’m cold*hearted—let the lord have mercy

[verse 2: fatal]
living just for the city, flexing with
the flavor, the chairman of the ill sk!ll committee
a hired hitman like frank nitti, not scared to get
my hands dirty, so we could mix it up with the nitty*gritty
my style is lethal, i got a “wanted” tattooed on my back
by the board of health [?] by the peoples of commonwealth
rip out your soul and leave you empty inside, the maniac
mortician filling emcees’ corpses with formaldehyde
turning out your lights like you o.d.’d on pills
for every emcee i slay, i mark their name on my butcher’s bill
opening n*ggas up like a can. n*ggas is
sweating my d*ck like an aerobics b*tch’s [?]
[bridge: shabaam sahdeeq and black sun]
shabaam the mic*wrecker! shabaam the mic*wrecker!
shabaam the mic*wrecker! shabaam the mic*wrecker!

[verse 3: shabaam sahdeeq]
sleep if you wanna. f*ck around? you’ll be a goner ‘cause
i’m not the average n*gga that be chilling on your corner
i warned ya i wreck sh*t from here to california. east
coast representing, i don’t wanna hear a sentence. no
repentance. n*ggas think they’re fly, but i’ma wreck ‘em
they’re gone when i come to check ‘em, but i’ma disrespect ‘em
yeah, you pack a gat. i pack a gat and pack a party too
and drop the bomb sh*t, then get with the f*cking hottie too
open with the lotion of the back*and*forth motion. see, my
d*ck was inspiration, had her in a doggie situation
my partner taz got my back—word is bond
so i could wreck shop, pass a mic, and move on. ayyo
it’s on! i take ‘em from the heart and then i dump ‘em
lyrically, i’m holding n*ggas hostage with my shottie

[verse 4: taz]
yo, i’m coming rough—can’t you tell by the beat that’s
kicking? open up your mouth, yo—i’ma stick a f*cking
brick in ‘cause your ass popped too much sh*t—hah!
n*gga, you don’t know when to quit, so i thought i’d make a hit
to let you know how the f*ck it’s going down
don’t f*ck around when i inhale buddha by the pound
what you know about the sh*t that i kick?
yo, your chick is on the d*ck ‘cause it sounds sl!ck
yo, i’m the motherf*cking rapper on the f*cking block
pulling more b*tches than that n*gga [?]
you better act like you f*cking know—hah! nope, this ain’t
bell biv devoe. it’s that n*gga that blow mad
buddha in the air ‘cause i don’t give a f*ck
i gotta give a pound to my main n*gga chuck
you’re down on your luck ‘cause you’re up against me
the corner buddha bandit. n*ggas can’t stand it
ayyo, i’m “hittin’ switches” like erick sermon
the ‘fro is really curly, i don’t sport no perming
it’s the buddha bandit—many know me. i’m a real one
b*tches label me the fly, funky, fair one. yo, around
the f*cking planet’s where i troop ‘em, scoop ‘em
cough, fade away, caution, get blunted, then we group ‘em
i’m known to play a b*tch if she’s acting like a groupie, i’m
a real doggie dogg like that real n*gga snoopy
so pump this sh*t up ‘cause we’re jamming! word to jimmy snuka
i be d*mning if my sh*t ain’t slamming
i’m on some monster type sh*t like billy bixby
dig some sh*t up from the mandrills back in
the ‘60
[verse 5: ran reed]
before a n*gga’s time, i know the flavor though
if you’re a jealous joker, do me a favor, yo
kiss these hairy*ass nuts ‘cause i never gave
two flying f*cks now that i’m making bucks, and
i’ve come to realize you ain’t nothing but the middleman
p*ssy*ass n*gga talking ‘bout, “what’s up, little man?”
you better recognize the size and strength
i’ll take it to your face, i’m booming like the bass
so grab the lysol, start spraying ‘cause it’s that
in*between*the*toe*jam funk—that’s the sh*t that’s
playing. let me chill like a freezer. i might catch
a seizure, i thought that it’s time i take a breather
psych! i never rest ‘cause it’s time to make the papes
every day, all day, i represent the flavor taste
yo, i’m strong just like the buddha i’m inhaling
your ass tried to get with [?], but you fell in
so would you give it up? ‘cause your sh*t sounds trash
here comes another smash. pass off the cash
i represent the buddha and i paid mad dues, yo
i’m bad news ‘cause i wreck mad crews. throw
your guns in the air if you know i make the fat sh*t
that shoot*‘em*up, bang, rat*a*tat sh*t. yo, i kicks
the flavor with [?] plus i flow with fatal and
shabaam, my f*cking fam booming with the band
so what? what you wanna when we come for you?
you better watch your back ‘cause my crew don’t slack

- nick wiz

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