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I Call Him Mad

Paris


Rougher than a rusty razor, he’ll amaze ya
Mix and dope tricks’ll stick like Frasier
Cue the wheels’ll spin then begins the blend
Scarface in the house again
Bambi DJ’s’ll pray what he plays
Won’t hit or skip or might phase
Suckers still suck, they duckin’ uppercuts
Strike three MC’s are blazed
Born to beat back the blows of feedback
A sissy strivin’ still sounds so wack
Can’t compare or come close to purity
Mad’s the man, MC’s agree
The bully bruisin misusin’ turnstyles
Keeps the mix on beat for me while
I spit and cold bust the keynote
Mad’s on a roll with the sicker show now

By now you know Mad’s made to mutilate
Crush and devestate, move and educate
Weak wack watered-down welfare DJ’s..
Tryin’ to get what he plays
Call me Paris X, check ya Rolex
We came and stomped and chomped bones and broke necks
So smooth with the movement rhythm tracks
I’m not worried that you’ll be back, just..
listen.. let him play..

Compositor: Oscar Jerome Jackson (Paris)
ECAD: Obra #4409798

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