I'm Ready Lyrics - Singles - Freddie Foxxx

You, you, you 

(You rappers can't be like Fred) 

You, you, you 

(You rappers can't be like Fred) 

You, you, you 

(You rappers can't be like Fred) 

A-a-and you hate it 

This is a rap session 

And I'm the man at the podium speakin 

Keepin you dancin and freakin 

I came alive from the world of streets, baddest beats 

And bashed up a lotta MC's to find my seat 

So cover your chest, protect your head 

If a rhyme catches your mind sleep, you fall dead 

I kick it wicked like a wizard, rhymin every letter 

To beat me, you got to have a army or better 

Bum-rushin other rappers like Rhyme-O-Cop 

This is a contact sport, it's called hip-hop 

You suckers can't hang when I'm rhymin fast 

Cause your mic doesn't have enough power to last 

But when I slow it down to a moderate speed 

You catch a migraine headache and a nose bleed 

Whenever I break wild, you call Jake 

You try to slow me down, but your first mistake 

I always keep my eyes on a worthy opponent 

Cause it'll really be a trick to see em lose, won't it? 

I keep myself ready and prepared for all 

I handle whatever call, too strong to fall 

When you see Freddie Foxxx, you know you'll be entertained 

When the show's all over and the sound remains 

In your brain and you walk away sayin my rhyme 

Feelin good like a man that don't eat swine 

Fall asleep at night, and you start to dream 

If you was a paid rapper on the hip-hop scene 

You'd be heavy on the neck, and your pockets are fat 

But bein a rap star's a bit more than that 

You have to have a listenin ear for new ideas 

And speak your words fluent, so everythin's clear 

The mumblin jumbo's a comical gimmick 

That the devils make money off and suckers can mimic 

When you run out of rhymes, gonna stand there sweaty 

'Cause you wasn't ready, like Freddie the Foxxx 

I'm ready 

Street rappers hear a style that they like a lot 

When they make that first record, their rhymes are hot 

Not hot like you hear it on the radio all the time 

But hot like stolen rhymes 

Whatever's whispered in darkness, has to come to light 

So imagine what would happen if I gave you the mic 

One night, and you recite somethin you didn't write 

If it belonged to Freddie Foxxx, you might have to fight 

I throw jabs and rights, left hooks and hay-makers 

Only luck can duck the bone-breaker 

You're caught in a vice grip, tight and squeezin 

Whinin and cryin, beggin and pleadin 

I'm lyrical and mystical, I want you to know 

Cause when you gear up to come to a show 

Don't wonder why thunder hit my stage 

It's Freddie Foxxx on a rappin' rage 

I make rappers real nervous, give em the jitters 

Give em 'E' for effin' and I beat up the quitter 

Hold my hand around his neck and I grab him by the hair 

Then Karate-kick him like Mataka bear 

Rappers boast and brag about their lyrical skills 

But they all shut the fuck up when I break ill 

Cause I take all races and house both sexes 

They got a reason to sweat the three X's 

I'm ready