Who U Won Test lyrics

Artist  : Nine 
Song : Who U Won Test



 Send "Who U Won Test" Ringtone to your Cell 

 

Intro/Chorus: repeat 4X

Who you won test
me have a champion style

Verse
One:

Meet the mic controller the Philly
roller the wicked one
Sun rude bwoy come
rhymes off top the head
Said what I said and
did what I did
Never catch another bid create
rubbers and slid
I'm out of there ghost
evaporate vanish
Callate la voca if need be
I'm Spanish
No habla ingles police ask
questions
I don't know nuttin ain't nuttin
happening, stop stressing
I'm headed down the
alleyway
With the Smith on my hip, shank in my
hand, who's the man
You won test, who me?
I
think you better back up and chill, G
Don't
make me mad boy, don't even try
Eyah got
skills, eyah smoke mad thai
You steppin to a
brother who been through it all
My freestyle
is wild you nah won test my yes y'all
You
think you got flavor to match?
You can get a
smack for that, black

Chorus

Verse
Two:

Nobody can do it
You runnin out of
gas Sun, leakin much fluid
I'm hungry like Jack
two inches away from a Big Mac
then BUCK BUCK
BUCK
Take that witcha on the way down, so you
don't feel the ground
when you hit, and your
head splits, fuck all that bullshit
It's
hectic, respect it, the dialect, I
come
original, the intellect, refuses to
tongue twist
So don't tell me naythan
Me
have a champion style, hardcore with a taste of
Jamaican
You steppin to the wrong one the Nine
is the seed of Jesus
I get loose on ninety
proof
Fatter than a bubble goose,
unpredictable
you never know what I'm going to
say after I say
what I say when I say what I
say when I play, next?!?
There it is, who you
won test

Interlude:

The deceased
resented the fact, and told him off in no
uncertain terms
He still kept coming, he
identified himself, and then drew his
revolver

Chorus

Verse
Three:

Cream of the crop nonstop
hip-hop
Funky stuff rough enough to, break up
the handcuffs
Scuff a cream puff like an old
pair of boots
When the Nine millimeter shoots
the gift I was born with
Who's that, with the
booby trap, poisoning rap
with the wack
bullcrap, we can't have that
Shut him down,
I'm underground
and if my sound hits the
airwaves of pop, it'll still be hip-hop
No
samples from Barry Manilow
Strictly Timbo, you
know, the whole 40 below
That's how I'm rollin
in the Nines
Nine-Five, Nine-Six, Nine-Seven
to get mines

Outro:

Yeah I'm
sending this out to all you
bigmouth
knucklehead suckers that was talkin
all that garbage
I am the man, who you won
test, punk?