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soundtracks - gang starr - battle lyrics

{-scratched: “what? you wanna battle me?”-}
{-scratched: “yo man, how much money you got?”-}
{-scratched: “what? you wanna battle me?”-}
{-scratched: “yo man, how much money you got?”-}

[guru]
i used to guzzle 40’s, and own a beat up caddy
since the hood still love me, i’ll turn the heat up daddy
i went from mackin fly honies on the train
to straight relaxin on the beach, countin money gettin brain
soon as you rappers get a chance you wanna floss a lot
you buy a iced out watch because it cost a lot
then you in the club, stylin with dough
profilin with hoes that we boned, a while ago
you rookies haven’t done enough laps around the track
you had one hot single, but then your alb-m sounds wack
son you bore me with your war stories
you ain’t even do that sh-t, so that’s just more stories
how you expect us to take you seriously?
the look in my eye punk, has got you scared of me
i’m blastin your sons, i’m sn-tchin your funds
you catch a royal -ss-whoopin, you’ve been askin for one

{-scratched: “i’m bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game”-}
“what.. what?” {-scratch: “we thorough to the end”-}
“yo man..” “you know the drill”
{-scratched: “i’m bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game”-}
“what.. what?” {-scratch: “you wanna battle me?”-}
“yo man..” “how much money you got?”

[guru]
b-tch you don’t even know, the half about me
i bring it straight to your chest, ask your staff about me
i’m just a little bit older, plus a whole lot wiser
i might advise ya, or i might pulverize ya
i can visit any city, get respect in the street
while you alone in your room, shook to death of the streets
i’ll take a second to speak, i keep my weapon in reach
i ain’t talkin romance but you’ll get swept off your feet
i keeps a ghetto chick, that loves to blast and she peddle sh-t
groupies fake moves, i get her to settle sh-t
you can’t compare to the status right here
legendary worldwide, we can battle right here
listen junior, i’ma tear back your wig
this ain’t tv but i’ll show you what a “fear factor” is
stop grillin me, and all that frontin is killin me
you leave me no choice but to hurt your feelings g

{-scratched: “i’m bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game”-}
“what.. what?” {-scratch: “you wanna battle me?”-}
“yo man..” “how much money you got?”
“what.. what?” {-scratch: “we thorough to the end”-}
“yo man..” “you know the drill”
{-scratched: “i’m bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game”-}
{-scratched: “i’m bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game”-}
{-scratch: “we thorough to the end”-}
{-scratched: “i’m bout to slap rappers around”-}
“you know the drill”
{-scratch: “we thorough to the end”-}
{-scratched: “i’m bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game”-}
“you know the drill”

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