Stomp On Ya Brain

"If you can't walk the walk," nah don't even try it
 When I'm wired, I spit fire
 And come stomp on your brain, brain, brain...
 Yo! What about hip-hop, is so interesting?
 Emcees battle for respect, it's intensive
 Spit rhymes while I shimmy up the cliff side
 Before you ask why I'm tryin to show you where Rip died
 The questions give me more insight into your mind
 than them whack rhymes I hear you recitin all the time
 Restore and re-establish it, revive it, revamp it
 Refresh yourself with something organic, and mechanic
 s be so strong they are generally interpreted wrong
 Prone to correspond their responses from the songs
 Mr. Motherfuckin Know-It-All, bet you ten gold banola bars
 I'm smarter then those fifth graders are
 The writing technique is from a lion-headed beast
 Sciatic nerve got me spittin automatic words
 Ideas eliminated in the order they were created
 amid specative language about how I even made it
 Rebel without a cause, spittin ten billion bars
 to the cold corpse cellophane wrapped on the floor
 There's more, I declare war, bomb 'em!
 Pound after pound I come stomp on 'em
 We bite without barkin, you just a target
 I shot darts and stomp on your brain in Doc Martins
 with boats shoes, so crude, my pardon
 Soon as the clock startin, show moves I got from old dudes
 who used to smoke Kools by the carton
 Set fire to you, I'm the arson
 Was clappin at cats, before they applauded for John Carson
 Anybody with good sense, know the footprints
 solemn leads is from the Air Max 93's
 'til everything you see is Siamese
 I've been stompin since chicks from Martin was buyin reeds
 We stomp on your cane, and sell it to niggaz
 The niggaz stomp on your brain
 Who wanna tangle with the black orangutang?
 I came to bang, it ain't a thang
 Name a name he'll be history
 Nothin more than a mystery, a Stephen King novel
 Either they ain't been watchin or they need a clean goggle
 to follow the footsteps of the T Rex, detect
 whoever leap next from a speed jet without a parachute
 Turn you into carrot soup troop
 The duck-billed dino was eaten by the eighty ton rhino
 A very long time ago
 Soul, rock and roll, RTJ double-oh
 Now you know nigga, lock and load
 How can I create the right sentence to help explain
 how it feels when a whack emcee rhymes for Germaine?
 Don't be a water brain, make you spit your rhymes in quarantine
 Put you up against War Machine
 Sixty second rounds, keep your metaphors clean
 Sleepwalk when I dream, spit Listerine green
 The +Microphone Fiend+ on the scene
 Call on them scream, he might break you off a sixteen
 Laser beam lyrics comin at you at an altered speed
 The +Altered Beast+ don't pause for the beat
 This is lyrical law, you will be among the first to compete
 to run, walk or crawl over beats
 The goal is too tall to reach, can't touch the Spit Boss' feet
 You pole vault into a wall of defeat
 I love Biggie cause I know what he means
 When he told you, "It was all a dream"