featuring the Wolf Pack
Mister Cee [intro]:
I be the cruddy one that they call the DJ Mister Cee,
with the whole Wolf Pack in the place to be.
Better known as the Chocolate City.
So Scoob Lover, huh, are ya with me...?
{Scoob Lover:}
Yo, I break punks up like a fight. Give me the mic, I'm hype.
(Damn kid, you're starvin' for life)
Cuz people be tellin' me, brothers be gellin' me,
tryin' to get fame from my name but they chumps and they Butt-soft.
They know I'm wilder than a dog with hot sauce.
A mic, a stage, a crowd, and I won't stop:
I set it off and get live like an alarm clock.
People thought Scoob and Scrap was just a nickname;
now that we rap, we sell more records than cocaine.
Awww, shucks, now I'm back from the down-low,
here comes Scoob with the currrr-ly afro.
No chemical reaction, no need for askin', pure satisfaction,
my last name's Jackson.
You slip up, I get ill -- my boot to your grill,
my nine kills, I'm Big Scoob from Brownsville.
The world's greatest lover, the chaaaaa-clate brother...
Chorus:
Who's the committee? (CHOCOLATE CITY!) 3x
Scrap Lover are ya with me?
{Scrap Lover:}
Yo, I drop science kinda like a pigeon;
over rough tracks I tax any midget with a small digit.
Smooth and mild but complicated,
I put the crowd to to smashed like a driver that's intoxicated.
Rappers write rhymes, and talk about guns and jail,
but wouldn't squeeze a lemon in a cocktail.
Don't say "huh?" or "what?", and don't ask who,
cuz if you hear me, I must be talkin' to you.
You probably thought I couldn't steal it, cuz I was a dancer,
I didn't have a cha
