Old School Tactics - E. C. Illa

Here we go once again

Back for more

Keep it on like this til the break of dawn

Show y’all how some real MC’s cold rock the mic and get things right

Rock, rock, y’all, to the funky cuts

Freak freak, y’all.

These nigga can’t get enough

Hold tight, y’all and it’ll be alright

Low Life, y’all, we keep it live all night

A Yo, I’m burning motherfuckers like Tiajuana hoes

Got a master degree in these devistating flows

And I know that y’all recognize the enemy

I’m an MC with tall skill and some mark ass ability

Living by ideals, hip hop pioneers instilled in me

And while you act like someone else, myself is who I’m thrilled to be

And still you be thinkin that you’re ample

But don’t you wonder why your labels cuttin off your ends like a sample?

I trample MC’s like the running of the bulls up in Spain

And make a living giving motherfuckers pain

I reign as the wack crew attacker, Low Life cracker

Beat and snare jacker, I’m after

Any who oppose and want to bring it

And now that you’ve quit rappin, motherfucker, you can sing it, uhhh

E.C. and Rhyme Fest, the hella shocka, tell a doctor

That this nigga broke his neck trying to do the helicopter

Call the pastor, cause when I blast ya, who’s the master?

I daze and create ways like Legendary Traxster

Staying bolder, as I get older, the mic holder

Beat niggas around the world cause I’m a universal soldier

It’s time to annihilate any and all

Competition who by wishin Ill would drop like a waterfall

And get wet up.

I’ll blow your whole set up

E.C. smack him in his face if he ever hold his head up

I strike like lightning and hit like a truck

Blew you up so bad intensive care wouldn’t give a fuck

So why should I if you die?

This ain’t Amen, but fuck with Ill and like Deacon, you’re gonna Fry