Lyric Who s It On
[Featuring Pep Love Del]
Verse One: Pep Love
My name be Pep Love
over the loop I scoop and do a flip
alleyoup put a dip in a hula hoop
And spin her as I went in her
she s hot like diner
she sounds like a tenor
Then again I wouldn t know yo
what is the subject
the way that Pep Love check
mics and throw rights and lefts
Don t move or budge yet
cause Hieroglyphics in the motherfuckin house
I rips descriptions of mc s duckin out
as we step in
Pep and Del and Casual leave the weapons
cause we flippin this funky shit for the crowds acceptance
I ve been around the world and I, I, I never seen
a crew of fresher niggaz that just be actin all in they teens
Never stallin, as soon as we fill in the scene
I bet ya that I wet ya mc s like a dream
Bringin a pow pow
shootin up like coke in the veins,
but now, now
I d rather have smoke in the brain
Who s the pimp?
The nigga that profits when I rock shit
I spin
check this shit which I have concocted
Then you can jock it
[Bridge:]
"Who s it on, who s it on, who s it-on? [Repeat]"
Verse Two: Del the Funky Homosapien
Yeah, it s time I add flavor, and I m glad I came
your style is lame, you picked a bad time.
Del will propel rhymes and tell minds to calculate
When it comes to rhymes I know I ll be great
Inside my ride when I get it, I won t have to kid it
I m right around the corner
you mourn or you shitted, bricks
I gets my kicks with my tricks and my treats
The agenda will send ya
in and out through my landscape
I will ban fakes, phony figures
No need for alarm cause I m the nigga
You re in the wrong place at the wrong time
and you ll catch a pistol whippin
but if you got a bong fine
Nowadays I don t forget what is flavor, interlockin
not meant for mockin, or plagiary
I m the major G, ask your agency
how my pager s free of anguish, ya strange bitch
I never saw you, we all crew
so you small crews gets no attention
I commence to blend, within the background
like a chameleon, revealin them
This is how I track down traitors
[Bridge]
Verse Three: Casual
I m comin phat, so don t mistake dude
I gate crews
drop that shit kid
I ll make ya kneel, bow
when I reveal real styles
Electrocutin we wreck the cute scene rappin, adaptin
cause the sacs spend his lifetime, tryin to bite mine
It s quite funny
word to the money that they say we gettin
My crew s judicial, you re superficial
Need I say more, niggaz get vexed
now they got me leavin bodies on the floor
like homeless
I slice your spleen, I m twice as mean
Your dome is disconnected, we wreck shit
niggaz don t know how to flow
That disgusts me, and keeps me bustin
I must clean the Hip-Hop
I m avare, no one can compare
I fiend to hear a nigga who can flow better
You no better
Hieroglyphics runnin shit from here till after fo ever
so clever Mc s take shorts because Jooooohn. . .
knows who s it on
Verse One: Pep Love
My name be Pep Love
over the loop I scoop and do a flip
alleyoup put a dip in a hula hoop
And spin her as I went in her
she s hot like diner
she sounds like a tenor
Then again I wouldn t know yo
what is the subject
the way that Pep Love check
mics and throw rights and lefts
Don t move or budge yet
cause Hieroglyphics in the motherfuckin house
I rips descriptions of mc s duckin out
as we step in
Pep and Del and Casual leave the weapons
cause we flippin this funky shit for the crowds acceptance
I ve been around the world and I, I, I never seen
a crew of fresher niggaz that just be actin all in they teens
Never stallin, as soon as we fill in the scene
I bet ya that I wet ya mc s like a dream
Bringin a pow pow
shootin up like coke in the veins,
but now, now
I d rather have smoke in the brain
Who s the pimp?
The nigga that profits when I rock shit
I spin
check this shit which I have concocted
Then you can jock it
[Bridge:]
"Who s it on, who s it on, who s it-on? [Repeat]"
Verse Two: Del the Funky Homosapien
Yeah, it s time I add flavor, and I m glad I came
your style is lame, you picked a bad time.
Del will propel rhymes and tell minds to calculate
When it comes to rhymes I know I ll be great
Inside my ride when I get it, I won t have to kid it
I m right around the corner
you mourn or you shitted, bricks
I gets my kicks with my tricks and my treats
The agenda will send ya
in and out through my landscape
I will ban fakes, phony figures
No need for alarm cause I m the nigga
You re in the wrong place at the wrong time
and you ll catch a pistol whippin
but if you got a bong fine
Nowadays I don t forget what is flavor, interlockin
not meant for mockin, or plagiary
I m the major G, ask your agency
how my pager s free of anguish, ya strange bitch
I never saw you, we all crew
so you small crews gets no attention
I commence to blend, within the background
like a chameleon, revealin them
This is how I track down traitors
[Bridge]
Verse Three: Casual
I m comin phat, so don t mistake dude
I gate crews
drop that shit kid
I ll make ya kneel, bow
when I reveal real styles
Electrocutin we wreck the cute scene rappin, adaptin
cause the sacs spend his lifetime, tryin to bite mine
It s quite funny
word to the money that they say we gettin
My crew s judicial, you re superficial
Need I say more, niggaz get vexed
now they got me leavin bodies on the floor
like homeless
I slice your spleen, I m twice as mean
Your dome is disconnected, we wreck shit
niggaz don t know how to flow
That disgusts me, and keeps me bustin
I must clean the Hip-Hop
I m avare, no one can compare
I fiend to hear a nigga who can flow better
You no better
Hieroglyphics runnin shit from here till after fo ever
so clever Mc s take shorts because Jooooohn. . .
knows who s it on
