Текст (слова) песни: Masta Ase, Inc. - Boom Bashin

 
Here comes the boom, with the hip hop bash as I smash and crash 
How many gangsta rappers are gonna last? 
Not one, they got done, I had fun 
doin em and screwin em and booin em and chewin em 
I`m slick and I`m quick, up my sleeve is a trick 
Hey! So what, I use funky drummers, suck my dick. 
I`m still thick, with murderous beats and heavy kick 
and I`m sick of the so-called shots ya gonna lick 
I slam and I slam and I slam, did I mention that I slam 
don`t eat spinach but I yam what I yam 
death-defyin like a circus, I work this 
mic, you can`t jerk this, off-beat on purpose 
I never smoke dope, I don`t carry a nine 
I ain`t no hustler with bitches on my mind 
gangstas are swimming in the water, 
I oughta, boom bash and slaughta 
 
I`ma break it down, and I do mean down, yo way down, 
so far downtown the devil`s gonna call it underground 
and niggaz betta know the fuckin score 
cuz I`m raw, like eddy, 
and like confetti they get tore 
up, from the floor, up, 
there`s no time 
and my spits gettin sprayed in ya face as I rhyme 
so run run run, ya better head for the hills 
get ya gun gun gun, and ya cyanide pills 
and a rope for ya neck, and a razor for your wrists 
cuz I`m pissed, and it`s suicide to battle this 
ummm, highly explosive, material 
grand imperial, pour me on cereal 
cuz I flow from the belly of a cow 
wipe ya brow, how ya like me now 
 
 
You can get with this, or you can get with that 
but you can`t get with the man with the mad snap hat 
I take em out with one blow to the cerebellum 
and tell `em, my jams are so funky you can smell `em 
rhyme for rhyme, head for head with a one go 
i come from brooklyn, it`s wild like a jungle 
yeah, you might get a cap jack, ya act wack, 
I carry a can of flat black in my napsack 
lookin for a wall to tag up, and brag up 
and rag up, yo nigga yo digga raise the flag up 
I click click my heels, and good is how it feels 
there`s no place like home and chrome on ya wheels 
chasin through the projects, I lose you 
hope I didn`t bruise you, I cruise through 
your neighborhood, in a chevrolet impala 
dropped to the ground and, makin the girls holla 
rollin, rollin, rollin, I`m rollin 
sorry officer, the car ain`t stolen 
i really don`t care what you thought of me 
i oughta be, far from orderly 
in my fashion, i boom and i bash and
 

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