Art Of Facts Lyrics - Singles - Artifact

As Mellow Max passes the blunts to Skully 

We're about to come get nutty up in here 

Artifacts, nine-six tricks, Sean J. with the beat 

Complete with the Artifact techniques 

I like to rip off mics and clock off dice that roll funny 

Gettin' blunted off somebody's hoe money 

Honies beepin' for me for cheese, ease back 

Please keep that weave intact, best believe that Tamer D'll be back 

Get the weed sacks relax, fuck a flick from Blockbuster 

I'ma touch ya, provin' who got the bomb like Russia 

Friendly neighborhood rap hood with goods 

Could it be? Yes, no question 

Now let's start up the session, kick a rap out 'til I black out 

Check out when I wreck out, throwin' backs out, laughin' out loud 

When niggaz crap out, me I want more G's than the LAPD 

From when I wrote my first rhyme in eighty-three 

With each speech released I reach mad blocks 

Analyzin' more spots than Matlock, now I got this rappin' shit on padlock 

You only half-rock, my shit returns like resurrections in religion 

Was fuckin' with the fact we only bullshittin' 

Yo El, Sinister Brick City minister 

One two, yo, start takin' notes, statin' all quotes 

Niggaz couldn't see me through an optometrist scope 

Open, by the rhythm MC's that's hardest 

New Jerusalem, Artifacts be the oddest 

Main target, crews who think they bringin' the news 

Who's this? Kickin' in your Benz-y box crisp 

As long as the Boom Skwad is hearing me clear 

There ain't another rapper here that's gonna G this year 

(Yeah) 

Lyric for lyric we exhibit mass appeal, stayin' Real like Erick Sermon 

Drunk off the funk like it was bourbon, rollin' up Big Willie like Suburban 

Blazers make a wager, tamer blows up like a pager 

Makin' you wake up early, tell your girlie turn my tape up 

Wait up, let me lace up the place like boots 

Make loot and proceed to rock like Roots 

I tear the roof off and when I fuck don't take my boots off 

I shoot from the lip and make your nose glow like Rudolph 

You soft, so let me hit you off with all the hardness 

Artifacts shit, we got the hard shit regardless 

Punks pop junk, Tame and the Sensai leave 'em all beat 

Many ask how I be makin' up my shit 

Like the format and how it don't match or fit 

I just, dig into the X-Files of styles 

Hittin' while you're missin' I'll prove that the child 

Be on the different angles, strangle those who wanna tangle 

With the Flexi, with the Technique ripper 

El the Sensai what the men say in the back? 

Thinkin' that we can't battle rap in combat 

Cease that, realize that the Facts don't mess 

Around when we bless sounds down for any test 

So bring your nine and your vest 

'Cause when you step to these men, your plan best to be correct 

Interject with intellect, each step steady 

Dissin' those who pose with beef that's petty 

Who wanna battle? No one