Yo I'm from L I fella, vision had you tune into my figgida   Figgida microphone and mobile   Holding mic's is so while I be just day dreaming   Drop for like, nine months, and rock from backyards to fronts   Who wants to live the gutter life, we got sidewalks to walk, baby   I need a chick with big potatoes to mash, baby   Hang like parachutes, I've been floating for years   Went from rapping in cars to rapping careers      One beer, two beers, I got the gift like Santa   I go from NY to DC, and down to Atlanta   Make you fly like propellor, we be down in the cellar   What I guess you call the basement   'Cause that's where all he bass went   When we turn it up a notch, old school like Ed Kotch   Toss my foot up in the air and grab my crotch   Who am I? Michael, keep the music on a cycle   So we can finish up the flow within your fro, word out      This is called frozen style   Shatter your teeth style   Freeze like Artic style y'all      Come on, check it out, I'm the P to the O to the S   Known to pinpoint the flow to the chest   So wear your vest, nibble the thighs and breast on Vanessa   Had to sneak it 'cause her moms kept me under pressure   Now as the sun appears to rise and set   Some cats live for the hood 'cause it's as good as it gets   But my plot is much thicker, I move it much quicker   Three hundred and sixty mile to the P H      So I'm balanced, not a fella to fall   Connecting the dots, I got two propellors in awe   Went from ghetto to the meadow   Seen all degrees of hot, and froze when I was not   Like lot, my lady threw salt in the game   Invested cheese in the mouse who sent pork into fame   Now you hear my name being screamed on the ride of life   It's too late to get off, to get off      We in the house y'all, we in the house y'all   We about to get evicted, there ain't no lights or liquid   The bills ain't paid and last week we had a raid   'Cause we partied too much but that's my family's trade   Invited all of my folks, and yo, all my folks stayed   They tried to silence our shit, but we just pushed up the fade   Sat back to charge a dollar, hadn't got paid   And called on the band and got stupid when the keyboard played      Keeping funky with the propeller heads y'all      N-Now listen, you see, I'm here to usher the pain with no relief   But still get the "Great Scotts, are you a thief?   Seems like you got a mouth full of gold" records   Sorry for that, platinum plaque soon to come   Till then propellor got me working the drum   For a fee, so notify the foe looking for the fumble   I hear you want to rumble on the mic, so check it out   How you want it, I got it      Oh yeah