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"New Improved" lyrics by POPA WU
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"New Improved"


[Manley Musa]
Yo, what? What? Run kid, run!
You should break North for thinkin with your's
Send out track signed sincerely hardcore
Throw you in a choke hold hoe, I smack you with the Mac-one-one
My raps are double-action, run the track from the back end
Don't have me bust your lip or have my glock slip
That's one of you rap crews in the lip, huh?
I'm two seconds off, I'm one second lost from the six-pack
Now we put in together, we can all get that
Huh? Puff forty the rocker, Shorty naughty with two squigs
Three pulls then pass it back, don't even ask me why, black
You may act, sane, you may act, shady
I think he's still goin crazy over his baby Hailey
Go hey-hey Hailey walk slow, my slow flow's so remarkable
The rap attract until MC's come so I could spark a few
Put you on starvin like a hostage, put you on like 'em fossils
What a rascal, triangular when I'm verbal head-bangin ya
This style, lean on poles and watch heads fold
And bang their pins like it's the same session
So call the best that you know, uh, I'm numero uno
Number one, hoe, whatever language you know
You could've been my ace or my ill, we go through cases to build
Right now you goin through faces of fear
So it's a rhyme fract', you don't turn out the lights
And beast walk the streets, got you scared of the night

[Chorus x2: sample]
Play y'all niggaz drunk, it ain't no mothafucka like me
Play y'all niggaz drunk, it ain't no mothafucka like me
Play y'all niggaz drunk, it ain't no mothafucka like me
Cuz I be on, I be on some New Improved next shit

[Drunken Dragon]
Yo, yo, yo...
They call me Darth Vader when I'm invadin ya space
Raid your area (Yo RZA hit 'em with the mace)
Leave that hard shit up under a rock, ya sound fake
The platform shake, I'm like a human earthquake
Feel the tremors, lights get dimmer, cut your power lines
Short-shiggety-shine, illuminate your mind
I heard too many rhymes slackin, too many MC's be lackin
The skill that it takes (and they still rappin!)
My apparatus is the baddest, my lyrical flow's the maddest
Your style is the Pips without the Gladys (Hoo!)
Light-Brite, these MC's be writin wack rhymes
Claimin that they pullin fifty triggas at a time
(Yo they lyin) I'm out firin, yo Puff you be
While you poppin shit I'm poppin nuts up in your girl's coutie
I roll the mic up in the Philly
Smoked it, now watch these MC's get silly
From the contact, Dragon, I rip mic's tight
Poppin couchie in the daytime and lyrics at night
Damn right, Bob, I rock a rhyme non-stop
Straight from Brooklyn where my hip-hop gets dropped

[Chorus x2]

[Delta #1]
Ain't no mothafucker like me...
On some next shit, holdin laser three-eighties
Givin laser dick to a bitch like Kendra, playa
I'm on tracks hustlin my pen, I'm a Nigga With Attitude
Like Ren & Dre, keepin verses gangsta
And I teach my little couso's how to spit verbal ammo
That I had Flex on they dick and bomb shit up
When my squad rolls up, it's Nuthin But A 'G' Thang
We keep raps potent, that's a gumbo thing, what?

[Kendra (Buddha Monk) {both}]
Got y'all niggaz on ya back like I'ma fuck 'em in the V
If you see my cheetahs, China rings overseas
(It's the darker slower, sword swingin, kamikaze gun totin
Bust a rhyme with the Henny, drunk totin)
It's motion on stage, put niggaz in a craze
Musical chairs when I raise like flags, a forte
Hell raise, find ya by doorags (doorags, nigga)
You crews laugh, this staff blew too fast
(We never knew that our slang would cause too much impact
On the Devil, wantin to reject that but the kids is buyin that)
Nigga's tryin that, tricks we give, tricks with kids
Shit we live, catchin licks, all in the demon's grip
Need I say more? Blow up Buddha-God, the sage shore
Salute the lyrical tear-up, we never fearin you
Scarin you, too tough for the wack, we never hearin you
(You stuck by two of the greatest tactics) Yes
(We bomby blue, blarin on every track, if you ask us
It's the Blackout, bum-rush) You wanna get stupid?
(Cold, ready to aim to bust back and make noise)
My corpse is a RZA from a thriller or nine killa
Passin by Mumia is like trapped in the raw, nigga
(So who wanna test those who sue skin like iodine)
Acidic, my rock frequency like Jesus in Palestine
(Packin nickel-plated chrome nines
I design lines to the burn-freeze minds)
Cross the River Jordan in Timbs to get mine
{It ain't a mothafucka like me}

[Chorus x2.5]

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