Ten Tough Guys

Written by: Michael Turner & Christopher Portugal

[Double K:] Mm-hm…
[Thes One:] That's right…
[Double K:] C'mon folks! Move it! Lemme get one line here!

I got ten MC's, held up in a line
'Cause all these dudes told me that they knew how to rhyme
So which one should it be that I choose to test first
The way he grabbed the mic showed signs of a pussy, and even worse
He was talkin bout a gat that wasn't tucked in his waist
So I recorded him "ass", into the next sucka's face (next!)
This fool was pretty dope, told him, "keep up the good work"
Gave him a pound and a pimp, moved on to this next jerk
Ay-yo, dude looked like Usher with his chest all exposed
Busting 'bout bitches he been hitting, his stupid-ass clothes
Big smile on his face like there were hands in the air waving
But I was anticipating that Satan would see him baking
Under the authority of someone lower than me
Started gettin tired, skipped three, now here's the seventh MC
Looked like a pretty cool guy, but sounded like Trench (Hay! Ho!)
Moving around all fast, screaming, with weapons around his neck
It was like a fuckin joke, me and the gang got a good laugh
He got all hot, tried to dulo, we beat his fuckin ass like:
(Look at you now… amarosa!)
Number eight was a female, at least that's how I figured,
Until it started rapping, sounded like one of my niggas,
"Goddamn" this, that, and all the guns in the world
Harder than most niggas on the mic, even had a Jheri Curl (damn!)
Sent her to Jenny Jones, for the little makeover, told her
"Be back in two weeks!" you see, all I wanted to do was bone her
Word, she's out like yesterday's six-pack, so let's get back to the last two
Yo, they're from the same crew, what should we do
Thes said he knew them niggas from some open mic spot
They tried to nut up, got cut up, so here's round two

[Thes One:] Yeah! You, money! You talking to me?
[Wack rapper (Thes):] You got a battle rap? Battle me!
[Double K:] Wassup then?! Wassup?

[Thes One:] Yo…
What would you do if I could prove you didn't exist and it was true
Like a missed come true to solve solidified proof of your essence
Of you in the spoof of your birth
Now I guess that would lessen your worth to the dirt and the earth
And the leaf, now I leave you alone without belief that your really here
And assist you beneath your fear, an endearing tear would fall
If all that I said was true… am I right or to it or just both
Too complex for a quote? I'll have the final say
Like the rope to the boat to the dock, you're not free yet, man
You're sick, stuck, caught, sick in the head, stuck to the bed
You're dumbfed, diseased with that mononucleo-
What'd I look like money?! That Latin listening to Coolio?
So, I ask, what was your mom's task when she had you?
If only she knew, though, that through all of her pain
Her baby was born without brain and insane and just plain with no style!
No smile, your memories are worth a shitpile to me
You believe that you're free!?! Man, free from your mom
Free from the man, and most of all, free from me?
But you see, I've caught you! My bad, you don't really exist
So I've got to, explain this, so when I tell you how not to
You won't do it, I screw with your thinking
I know I exist, and I'll prove it 'cause I'm listening to you
But I ask: what if God was an evil genius who only made you
Believe you were true, and your life was nothing, man
Just a really long dream, and when you die
You'll start a whole new life, a whole new dream?
But that was just a dream, and it seems, man
You can't break out the cycle… Am I crazy?
Go to your church and ask your white God if I'm right, yo
([Wack rapper (Double K):] Yo, I don't go to church!)
Whatever he replies will be lies, we've already established its evil
When I'm lying, you don't exist, but merely as emotion and perceival
Believe you'll be around tomorrow, kid?
Yo, you've borrowed time with no interest,
And since you're a dream, I can mentally put on the pinch
And you disappear in an instant, fool… What?! What?!

[Double K:] Nigga, fuck you! You can't rap anyway. Yeah, we up out of here! ([Thes One:] Sucka!) Sucka-ass niggas! Eat a dick! People Under The Stairs…

*Important Note: These transcriptions are not verified with P.U.T.S., so there may be errors. We are especially unsure of the greyed-out text. We encourage you to offer your suggestions for lyrics corrections on the site's main page.


This track appears on the following releases:

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The Next Step Question in the Form of an Answer American Men, Vol. 1
"O.S.T." ...Or Stay Tuned Stepfather
The Om Years Fun DMC Carried Away
Highlighter 12 Step Program American Men, Vol. 2
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