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collabo (whatcha really!) [clean] - network reps lyrics

network reps ft. el f*dg* and mike zoot * “collabo (whatcha really!)”
[emcee(s): el f*dg*, mike zoot, and dash]
[producer(s): rich boogie (aka r’thentic & rtnc)]
[scratches: rich boogie (aka r’thentic & rtnc)]

[verse 1: el f*dg*]
yo, yo
when i pop sh*t, epidemics suddenly spread a block, lift
through the twelve*and*a*half bars of hotness, walk barefooted
on jagged rock tip. my brain obtain seventeen
rhyme sh*lls like automatic glock clips, and my mouth’s
the barrel, letting off on some ‘nam sh*t, blacking out
your outlook like benzes made of the onyx. my word is
my bond like nostradamus. y’all can’t see me
and i stay bubbling, so refer to me as loch ness. my moms
positioned her thighs back, causing my father to climax
eventually, pregnancy made her thighs fat. in ‘77
an egg cracked open and i hatched. in ‘97
my record got pressed into beehive wax
so immediately above—what you think? it’s el f*dg*

[interlude: mike zoot]
what champions are made of

[verse 2: mike zoot]
yo, with a spark the greatness and fire in my eyes, feel
the most furious sounds, the most potentest pounds, top five
puffing chronic, hydroponic bubonic
while reclining back in bucket seats on streets, spotted freaking
a dot*dot. deadpan smile, shake her hand
sincerely. watch and hear me: all sound mens get slammed. do i
dance or jam? i’m here to entertain you
stinking up the scenes ever since i came through
have one, i drank two (two) bottles of no bubbles, drank
subtle, my train of thought shuttle, beef knucklehead
my independent hustle? holy russell, i’m ready, release
load it and c*ck for the underground to lock steady
cards on the table, lobster, pork, lip*gloss
the baby, cuban*cable*type small sh*t, i write awkward
now down four, we k!ll the chorus and observe this tournament
you’re left scoreless, most ignoreded. hip*hop head
record this late*night, dub*plate fight in dim light
the sound*clasher, master of disaster, i’m
out, so commence the outro, pack the astro
van full of my feelings. mike zoot left the building

[hook: samples with scratches by rich boogie] (x2)
“what you really need to do is just boogie your ass. it’s not” * sample from q*tip on a tribe called quest ft. busta rhymes * “one two sh*t”
“gas. we got to make the good times last” * sample from q*tip on a tribe called quest ft. busta rhymes * “one two sh*t”
“let the good times roll ‘cause we’re in control” * sample from q*tip on a tribe called quest ft. busta rhymes * “one two sh*t”
“all the way to 2g’s and beyond”

[verse 3: dash (of network reps)]
even
beyond lye, it is my mission to burn ish, and you’ll see
emcees lyrically get their perm split. move
the crowd surface like the water by the moon that’s pale
like my epidermis, rise with the tide—that’s
my purpose. kids want it quick but gotta earn it. seen
their kind too many times like jedi return fl!cks
i lay back and watch a track get furnished with
the finest materials known to this climate
behind it is a plot so thick, it wouldn’t fit inside
a single episode. behold: i throw kicks and snares
down the staircase, see where they land
the 808 broke your neck at the eso’s dance. now you’s
a hip*hop fan? i speak fantastique to sweep
the fantasy folds up out your mole ‘cause you’re skin deep
i prophesize with lots of guys focused around
sativa, cop a size*10 sneaker, leave a fine print
either my treadmark’ll engrave the session or i
found myself in a p*ss puddle reflection
which left an impression, letting me know who i am. all you
duck*sicking brothers ain’t fam—understand?

[hook: samples with scratches by rich boogie]
“what you really need to do is just boogie your ass. it’s not” * sample from q*tip on a tribe called quest ft. busta rhymes * “one two sh*t”
“gas. we got to make the good times last” * sample from q*tip on a tribe called quest ft. busta rhymes * “one two sh*t”
“let the good times roll ‘cause we’re in control” * sample from q*tip on a tribe called quest ft. busta rhymes * “one two sh*t”
“all the way to 2g’s and beyond”

- network reps lyrics

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