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q ball & curt cazal - my kinda moves lyrics

[scratches: curt cazal]

[verse 1: q ball]
i slide in the beast with intentions, throwing wrenches
in your whole style mechanics, have you sinking like t-tanic’s
crews panics from the dynamics of the duo
smoke bones with thugs, kicking harmonies like judo
(what you know?) my style is more deadlier than subways
hot like sun-rays, in ways my rhyme pays
q ball rocks for days, spreading rappers like cottage cheese
on their knees, my style is catchy like disease
so holla when y’all hear me, blow like naughty
power moves making money in mo’ towns than berry gordy
i’m coming more correct than nerds answers on math tests
(and when i commence) tell me who can move that [sh-t] best
i’m blowin’ sh-t up like oklahoma in this mother
on the other side i’ve been gettin’ special ed just like lover
be mellow like [?] dragged through the gutters
q ball and curt cazal represent like boxcutters (word up)

[scratches: curt cazal]

[verse 2: q ball]
i stack chips like vegas yo when they play this
with a whole plethora of rhymesayers and displayers
of the ill craft, cool like shaft (and sup’ like fly)
so puff this ill lye that i sift through hi-fi
(ah, 1—2) i’m posting warnings like the notorious one, son
calling all cards, once again it’s how i get [sh-t] done
uh, yeah, you know how i do
my sense is common as i resurrect old tunes for my crew
so who you? my funds be fluid like some perrier springs
so i get biz like mark, now felt a spark off they stink
below rock a dt, some n-gg-s can’t see we
the duo d—y—n—a—m—i—c, i be
grand like pu’ with mad rock like [?]
as a be going in the range with a deranged type crew
breaking atoms like the main source, calling swords to [?]
so prepare to get tossed or get ta steppin’, aight

[scratches: curt cazal]

[verse 3: q ball]
i stay sharper than oj’s knife on his ex-wife
styles trife, it’s all about the rhyme (word, life)
but emcees on they backs like when they breakdancin’
q ball got that sk!ll to get more lumps than breast cancer
moving on the reg’, roll with hoods like champion
and you can hear that qnc no matter who the f-ck camp you from
(my crew are mad thick) mad sick like son of sam
bringin’ funk like flex, yellin’ next up in the jam
so all aboard, come and peep the [?]
as we [?] with pr-nouns and adjectics
get it? t—i gets busy e—f—n—g
with procedures that’ll leave you eager like beaver to be the
m—r period, dead serious
like das, i run this motherf-ckin’ world like nas
so-ah, excuse boss, me cellular phone
i got this milkbone waiting at home, nah mean?’

[scratches: curt cazal]

- q ball curt cazal lyrics

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