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    Masta Ace / Lyrics

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    "Ain't U Da Masta" Lyrics

    Masta Ace

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    Lyrics

    Here come the jams, yo punks, guard your domes
    It's the man with the mad new styles and funky poems
    So strike one, strike two, strike three, you're out
    Of luck, Jack, fuck that, grab your nuts and shout
    (Ain't you the Masta?) Yep, I've always been
    And then, I'm a stab a fucking critic with his pen
    So write that, put that in your magazine and stick it
    I'm wicked, just like a witch when I kick it
    So break out your charts and scales and try to rate me
    Give me a one, son, yep I hope you hate me
    Cause I'm a keep on bringing it, I'm swinging it
    Sharp like glass til your punk ass is swinging it
    Riff-raff, your whole damn staff I have to cut up
    I drop bombs, I'm fatter than your moms, so what up?
    I come from the planet of raps on, oh yeah
    Beam me up Steady, there's no skills down here
    So there, you little punk sitting in your chair
    Soon you're gonna know the score kids, I swear

    (Ain't you the Masta?) Yep, I'm the Masta (Repeat 4x)

    I hits you hard kids, you're barred from the mic and
    Rhymes kick like Pele, rough like a dyke and
    Praise me, Masta, off beat, the healer
    Rap style's deisel like an 18-wheeler
    So get that weak style out of my path
    I'm turbo, I drop lines long like Nostran Ave.
    So danger, I'm burning from Monday to Sunday
    I'm hot like some niggas 10 deep in a Hyndai
    So make way, I drop mad heavy like the Fridge
    I'm sacking, you're wack and you're over like the bridge
    This little rabbit tried to diss me, but fuck it
    I got duckets, one day that rabbit kicks the bucket
    You know (I know) You know (I know)
    You know, you know, well yo follow where I go
    Jane, stop this crazy thing if I sing
    Some love shit and dress mad fly, I'd be the king
    And be seen on the covers of like 27 books
    But I'm too proud to beg, so suck this, you crooks
    You're only as good as your last jam, it's true
    Your shit's new, everybody wants an interview
    But then, oh how quick they forget
    With no hit, they like "Who's that?" They full of shit
    And straight up, my patience is starting to wear short
    I'm gonna land blows like your head was an airport
    Say cheese you theif, let me see your teeth
    Cause I'm Ultra-magnetic, magnetic like Kool Keith
    So abra, cadabra, presto and change-o
    The off-beat, on-beat style is kinda strange yo
    It dops here, it drops there, it's off then it's on
    To the breaka, to the breaka, to the breaka of umm dawn
    Here I come with bones by the sack for
    Spraypaint, I tage my f-ing name on your back, punk

    (Ain't you the Masta?) Yep, I'm the Masta (Repeat 4x)
    This song was submitted on January 3rd, 2005 and last modified on October 18th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Peermusic Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC.
    Written by Reginald Ellis, Duval Clear, Norman Glover.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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