Microphone Killa Lyrics - Stimulus Package - Freeway

[Intro - Freeway - talking - w/ ad libs] 

Woo! Free! Yeah, we in here 

Uh huh, let's get 'em 

[Chorus - Freeway - w/ ad libs] 

Who am I? 

Microphone killa, microphone killa, microphone killa 

Swifter than a breeze, I will Swiss cheese emcees 

[Verse 1 - Freeway] 

Even though I got a short temper, had a long day 

I will kill a tall nigga with a long K 

Matter of fact I'm exactly what the song say 

Mic killa, best flow-er, "that's what they all say" 

Let me prove it to you, deliver the music to you 

Raw and uncut bake, I'm not puttin any on it 

Back, I put the city on it 

East coast, head on my shoulders, put my fifty on it 

All day, take it off just to rest 

I'm not a sleeper, if a nigga try to creep me put the heater to his chest 

Yes, bullets penetrate fresh 

Tag him with the chrome, get blown like reefer 

He tried to take flight, hit him right with the beam 

Since I was a pre-teen been a microphone fiend 

Had dreams to rock, then I signed with The Roc 

It's still Roc for life, Rhymesayers is the team, yeah 

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[Chorus - w/ ad libs] 

[Verse 2 - Freeway] 

Find 'em all, line 'em up, pick 'em up 

You say they got the sickest mouth, no doubt, grind 'em up, kick 'em out 

That's one thing that they hate about me 

I body emcees, send 'em back to they paper route 

They say they can do without, stay without 

Never in doubt, if I'm without, I gotta bring the lasers out 

That's one thing that I hate about y'all 

Whenever I floss, I always bring the haters out 

Used to sling hard, bring the neighbors out 

Now I throw yard parties, bring the neighbors out 

Turntables out, one mic, one DJ, a couple guns 

That's how we get it done, Jake One, Freeway 

Do this with no delay, no doubt 

They bang my records in the house and on the E-way 

How you think I got the name Freeway? I move out 

Listen, 20-20 vision couldn't see me, yeah 

Photos 

[Chorus - w/ ad libs] 

[Verse 3 - Young Chris] 

Microphone (Killa), no Cam'ron 

Bomb like landmine, I don't ask shit, I demand mine 

I take a little bit and expand mine 

Grandson killin 'em grandma 

Chest out, head high, until I'm a dead guy 

I'm a shed light on all the lives I'm lead by 

Examples of successful legends and historical presence 

As I started reppin on Roc-A-Fella Records 

A blessing in disguise, y'all fools ain't messin with these guys 

Don't insult me, you messin with my pride 

It'll cost you, dirty money niggaz'll off you 

Pullin heat, throwin bullets deep, Randy Moss you 

It ain't hard to, six feet deep is where they toss you 

Detectives tell mommy that they lost you 

Tell 'em Free, no women and kids 

But we killin niggaz just like we kill these motherfuckin bars too 

[Chorus - w/ ad libs]