Lyrics Language: English Song writer/composer(s): Parish Smith, Mc Lyte
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MC LyteSlave 2 The Rhythm Lyrics:
Why is it that your watch stopped tickin, but you still keep clockin?
And no matter how hard you jinx, I keep rockin
Listen, hoe, cause I'm the lyte one
And if you're lookin for a fight, you found the right one
(They call me lyte)
(And I'm a slave to the rhythm)
(Funky fresh, dressed to impress, ready to party)
I'm not a procrastinator, or a instigator
But when it comes to dope rhymes on the mic, I'm the creator
I never look for trouble, but somehow it finds me
But yo, I just conquer it, and leave it all behind me
The l-y-t-e, very outspoken
And when I rock a rhyme, sometimes I leave you chokin
I'm mc lyte, comin live and direct
I never lose a battle, cause I always come correct
In any case I win, again and again
You see lyte is at the top till the very end
And even though I may be short, believe, I don't take none
Try your luck and we'll see who will get done
I mean immediately, like quick fast
Don't turn your back, cause this mic'll be in your ass
And don't take what I say too lightly
I beat you, defeat you so quietly
Sneak up and hit you like a fuckin tornado
Cause in the rap field lyte's the fuckin a/k/a doe
The capital l, the y to the e
Shit, give me room and I'll slay an mc
Whether it's in a crowd, or on the sneak tip
I wax you and your posse watch you trip and flip
As you drop the mic, cause you don't have the gift
To rip a style, fast or slow
(Why, lyte? ) too busy hoein it, sniffin up blow
Don't get mad, it's just a talent I was given
What I'm sayin, I'm a slave to the rhythm
Bein that I'm dissin, I was reminiscin
You was at my show, yo, you was on a mission
(Yo, what you tellin me, lyte? ) she was ass-kissin
No show, you hoe, no work, you jerk
(Cool, lyte, I think her feelings are hurt)
Alright, I'll chill and I'll come to my senses
But next time you diss, think of the consequences
Yo, I am no joke, I'm sharp like barbwire
Try to touch me, yo, you're bound to catch a fire
I never lose my cool, but if I do, yo, you're lost
I be forced to show and prove exactly who's the boss
Who gets the income and then some
I don't diss you for the money, I diss you for the fun
Don't get mad, it's just a talent I was given
What I'm sayin, I'm a slave to the rhythm
It took a whole album for you to try and diss me
And ha-ha-ha, slum bitch, you still missed me
But yo, I'm off the dissin tip, cause that takes no creation
I'm into other things that bring me accommodation
So I rap about funny things, or issues that are serious
Sometimes I rap a topic that leave my people curious
And other times I diss to put one in their place
If I diss you on wax, then I will diss you to your face
Some say I'm foul, and they don't like the way I'm livin
But yo, ask me if I care
I'm just a slave, I'm just a slave, I'm just a slave
To the goddamn rhythm
(They call me lyte)
(And I'm a slave to the rhythm)
(Funky fresh, dressed to impress, ready to party)
'Gangstress', don't make me laugh
Ha-ha-ha
And keep your eyes on this
And keep your eyes on this
(They call me lyte)
(And I'm a slave to the rhythm)
(Funky fresh, dressed to impress, ready to party)
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
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