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Change The Style (feat. No Self Control And The Band) Lyrics


Son Of Bazerk Change The Style (feat. No Self Control And The Band)

[Intro]
Yo we ain't playin, and as the chang stop, let's get buckwild
Now let's take it to the stage, you suckaz

[Verse 1]
... Dance
Cause suckaz can't deal with it
Straight up til they hittin it
Yall diggin would do it and I let you know I'm diggin you
Basically... We'll swing with a hit
Coming from the grip... me on another brother tip
Ain't none of that
Down like a elevator
You know I gotta make it feel funky for ya
- Yo, does that mean we're going with it, or what?
- Show em no pity fool, huh
Cause you're fakin the funk
Preach to the mic and I'll recite
And I'm not the herb or the one to be tested
Take my advice brother I suggest
When you steppin, the mic checkin
I'm wreckin, so the rhyme must stop
Yeah it feel like that, bust it while I change the style

//

[Verse 2]
Can you feel it, word
Feet cut you to the curb
Hey, this new way to sway
SOB, now run and get right back at it with your bad self
Look, I got the bag
- I got the cash
Hit me with a hit from the past
...Damn
They can't get enough of the funk, I said
//
I cut your hole in your pants
So devastating as I'm saying these rhymes
To the party like a renegade
Hit em raw
//
I'm back, just like the Bozack
Rhymes from another world while radio jocks be killing me softly
Bust it while I change the style

[Verse 3]
Up and down, wrapped around
Pardon my manners
Yo word to the mother, I like your style
- Somebody talkin bout cutting us down?
Now, cut a brother down?
Suckaz will be world renowned
//
Born and raised on a one way street
And you can see I'm wheezy that be tearing it up
Yo, you should watch the sound
Ill freak movements with this shit here
Put it on the air
Rhyme on a coaster, cold like a hoe
Nobody moves, nobody gets hurt
Try and test me and I smoke ya
Take the microphone cord, straight up choke ya

//yo kick that crab to the curb
//

[Verse 4]
Stand up... you know I got soul
I'm feelin so super bad
You foamin like the Foreman like I'm formin a line
A circle for the wear and tear
But if I was the crooked Al I would switch it around
Criss Cross your little hit down get down skeet down, punk
...Jack
Well I'm a LI Killa, you bet I'm strapped
I'm layin out a world attack on the mic
You know when I kick, you don't dig it, and I'm doing the saying
I keep sayin...
I'm roaring like a lion, the rhyme need a brother Ice
I'm on fire, sit down for my people, it's suiting my scripture
I emphasize the dialogue needs nothin
You become inferior
I go and bury ya
I go and put my hand on my tool
The technique is funk for ya eardrum
You will say the Son of Bazerk?!


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