Who U Won Test

[01:03.90][00:09.85]Who you won test me have a champion style
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
Im out of there ghost evaporate vanish
Callate la voca if need be im spanish
No habla ingles police ask questions
I dont know nuttin aint nuttin happening, stop stressing
Im headed down the alleyway
With the smith on my hip, shank in my hand, whos the man
You won test, who me?
I think you better back up and chill, g
Dont make me mad boy, dont 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 yall
You think you got flavor to match?
You can get a smack for that, black
Nobody can do it
You runnin out of gas sun, leakin much fluid
Im hungry like jack two inches away from a big mac
Then buck buck buck
Take that witcha on the way down, so you dont feel the ground
When you hit, and your head splits, **** all that ********
Its hectic, respect it, the dialect, i come
Original, the intellect, refuses to tongue twist
So dont 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 im 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
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
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
Whos that, with the booby trap, poisoning rap
With the wack bullcrap, we cant have that
Shut him down, im underground
And if my sound hits the airwaves of pop, itll still be hip-hop
No samples from barry manilow
Strictly timbo, you know, the whole 40 below
Thats how im rollin in the nines
Nine-five, nine-six, nine-seven to get mines
Yeah im sending this out to all you bigmouth
Knucklehead suckers that was talkin all that garbage
I am the man, who you won test, punk?