IMG n****, ha-ha
What? You ain't knowin' 'bout this m***********' clique m***********?
Too many n***** you just can't f*** with.
So you better bow down to this real m***********' s***, n****.
Verse 1:
n***** can't rest, they see death in the capital west.
They just rest in pieces when I releases this stress.
Give me the game and watch me run with it like Hardaway.
Raise the Mac-11 and see how many wants to die today.
I don't play no games, I'm a playa so I peep it.
Put one of your funky tracks next to mine and watch me heat-seek it.
Kablow.
All my enemies have been faded.
Even rappers on tour never made it to they designated.
Comin' through that east side Oakland with that drip-drop hip-hop
watered down sound
That never made it to the underground.
n****, my voice is more irritating than chlorine in your eye.
n****, I'm from the I, M G, I'm S-K-I.
A multi-talented minster music.
Weed? I don't do it. Samples? I don't use it.
Straight, original from this musical OG.
n****, open your eye, cuz the I is in IMG.
(chorus)
IMG (for life, n****)
West Side (for life, n****)
You raise your glock at my clique (we'll take your life n****)
It ain't no thing for us to blast
(And twist your cap and leave a bullet in your a**).
IMG (for life, n****)
West Side (for life, n****)
You raise your glock at my clique (we'll take your life n****)
It ain't no thing for us to blast
(And twist your cap and leave a hole in your a**).
Verse 2:
I'm scopin' n***** out.
Show me the trigger and watch me pull it, send a bullet to these
rappers' mouth.
So now, I gotta make my escape
Like Houdini the great.
"O" is for original, "A" is for artillery, "K", that's for killa,
n****, for my scrilla. Musical guerilla sellin' records by the milla.
That's platinum, now n**** read my walls and lick my b****
Before your family be missin' you like Aaron Hall.
Now, for all you do, n****, this is for the b**** in you.
It's part two to take a hit must I continue to bend you
I don't give a f*** if your whole crew defends you.
I got a crew to, but I don't need 'em to get in you.
You suck like the pink part of the p****, fool.
And your tracks ain't funky enough, because your ho keeps dishin' you.
You double agents keep on spyin' me
But it really don't matter cuz they can't see that IMG.
(chorus)
Verse 3:
n***** be having they noses turned up like b******.
They must not know I work full time, dumpin' n***** in ditches.
My name and my reputation speak for they self.
The doctor should have told you Mr. SKI is fatal to your health.
Or else, they should tell you I cause brain damage.
I manage to rip MC's in half, before I vanish.
Transparent. (I'm highly invisible and that's why you can't see me).
Lookin' wicked in a T-shirt and a black beanie.
When I creep like TLC
I ain't Tupac so keep your m***********' eyes off me.
I told you in the beginning,I'd blast if I have to
Now I have to, slap you up like the ho you are and mack you, n****.
And I ain't talkin' 'bout gamin' on ya.
I'm talkin' 'bout mackin' you when that Mac-11 start flamin' on ya.
You better keep your punk-a** from trying me.
You better try a taste-test before you think of trying IMG.
(chorus till end)
What? You ain't knowin' 'bout this m***********' clique m***********?
Too many n***** you just can't f*** with.
So you better bow down to this real m***********' s***, n****.
Verse 1:
n***** can't rest, they see death in the capital west.
They just rest in pieces when I releases this stress.
Give me the game and watch me run with it like Hardaway.
Raise the Mac-11 and see how many wants to die today.
I don't play no games, I'm a playa so I peep it.
Put one of your funky tracks next to mine and watch me heat-seek it.
Kablow.
All my enemies have been faded.
Even rappers on tour never made it to they designated.
Comin' through that east side Oakland with that drip-drop hip-hop
watered down sound
That never made it to the underground.
n****, my voice is more irritating than chlorine in your eye.
n****, I'm from the I, M G, I'm S-K-I.
A multi-talented minster music.
Weed? I don't do it. Samples? I don't use it.
Straight, original from this musical OG.
n****, open your eye, cuz the I is in IMG.
(chorus)
IMG (for life, n****)
West Side (for life, n****)
You raise your glock at my clique (we'll take your life n****)
It ain't no thing for us to blast
(And twist your cap and leave a bullet in your a**).
IMG (for life, n****)
West Side (for life, n****)
You raise your glock at my clique (we'll take your life n****)
It ain't no thing for us to blast
(And twist your cap and leave a hole in your a**).
Verse 2:
I'm scopin' n***** out.
Show me the trigger and watch me pull it, send a bullet to these
rappers' mouth.
So now, I gotta make my escape
Like Houdini the great.
"O" is for original, "A" is for artillery, "K", that's for killa,
n****, for my scrilla. Musical guerilla sellin' records by the milla.
That's platinum, now n**** read my walls and lick my b****
Before your family be missin' you like Aaron Hall.
Now, for all you do, n****, this is for the b**** in you.
It's part two to take a hit must I continue to bend you
I don't give a f*** if your whole crew defends you.
I got a crew to, but I don't need 'em to get in you.
You suck like the pink part of the p****, fool.
And your tracks ain't funky enough, because your ho keeps dishin' you.
You double agents keep on spyin' me
But it really don't matter cuz they can't see that IMG.
(chorus)
Verse 3:
n***** be having they noses turned up like b******.
They must not know I work full time, dumpin' n***** in ditches.
My name and my reputation speak for they self.
The doctor should have told you Mr. SKI is fatal to your health.
Or else, they should tell you I cause brain damage.
I manage to rip MC's in half, before I vanish.
Transparent. (I'm highly invisible and that's why you can't see me).
Lookin' wicked in a T-shirt and a black beanie.
When I creep like TLC
I ain't Tupac so keep your m***********' eyes off me.
I told you in the beginning,I'd blast if I have to
Now I have to, slap you up like the ho you are and mack you, n****.
And I ain't talkin' 'bout gamin' on ya.
I'm talkin' 'bout mackin' you when that Mac-11 start flamin' on ya.
You better keep your punk-a** from trying me.
You better try a taste-test before you think of trying IMG.
(chorus till end)