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dj hype - known to be the masta lyrics

[scratch hook]
“known to be the masta in the mc field” – epmd ‘so what cha sayin’
“you suckas” – boogie down productions ‘my philosophy’
“known to be the masta in the mc field”
“for all those who wanna profile and pose” – mobb deep ‘shook one’s pt ii’
“known to be the masta in the mc field”
“you suckas”
“whether brooklyn or berlin” – masta ace
“let’s blow up the spot, show ’em what we got” – tha alkaholiks ‘daaam!’

[verse one: masta ace]
y’all cats better not say my name on no album
or i’ma diss n-ggas on every song on my whole album
i’m ’bout to start punching rappers in they face for breathing
this game got me sick to the point that i’m dry heaving
y’all can either stay living or die leaving
but i’ma keep beating these odds till i’m even
when my song plays in the car, i’m raising the bar
and y’all can’t jump like white men so keep writing
my saliva spit’s hotter than lava
and you softer than destiny’s child but not a survivor
when someone asks me to rap i don’t know how to act
it’s like i’m hitting nia long doggy style from the back
when my sh-t penetrate these rappers disintegrate
n-ggas trying to eat off my name like a dinner plate
despite what you heard i’m one of the sickest to spit this
rappers want the type of respect, the trick is to get this
y’all cats k!lling yourselves like sid vicious
believe me, there’s still a few of y’all left on my hit list
when the time is right, i’ma climb on the mic
expose these fake n-ggas like i’m shining a light
cats on bet in expensive clothes bragging
when they more broke than a volkswagen with the hoes draggin’
masta ace, this is as real as it gets
and if i shove my hand up your -ss i’m not feeling your sh-t

[scratch hook]

[verse two: masta ace]
i’m ten times better than which ever rapper’s your favorite
i flow better than him and all the n-ggas he stay with
biting my sh-t is impossible to get away with
i’m like a loaded gun in a nursery, nothing to play with
you bark like a rottweiler but you not wilder
i pay top dollar to see you shot in the collar
and i’m not stopping, your new album is not popping
your label changed their mind, didn’t tell you, you not dropping
i got the urge and i’m ’bout to be on the verge
to writing a couple of words to get revenge on these nerds
and none of y’all n-ggas hard rock cafe
y’all sweeter than sade and rap like you half g-y
it’s evident that you heard of school but you never went
your album’s the worst .99 cent that i ever spent
and i better get a refund
before the beef come
these cats smile in my face but need they t–th done
i’m more mean than rage against the machine
y’all cats need take your acts to the big screen
i’m known for eating spoiled meat and spitting maggots
you starred in croughing h0m-, hidden f-ggot
i spit on this mic and it might short circuit
i would give you penny for your thoughts but they not worth it
my sh-t’s sick over a fast or a slow beat
your album’s like my first apartment, no heat

[scratch hook]

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