Lyrics: Dead On It

Riding in my Thunderbird on the freeway I turned on my radio to hear some music play I got a silly rapper talking silly shit instead And the only good rapper is one that's dead on it Uh, Dead on it Shall we go back? (Yeah!) Let's go Negros from Brooklyn play the bass pretty good But the ones from Minneapolis play it like it oughta should A magnum fro is better when you got a poof on it And the to and fro is funky when the grease is dead on it (Funky dead on it) Uh, dead (on it) on it Shall we go back? Let's go They dead on it, wow See the rapper's problem usually stem from being tone deaf Pack the house then try to sing, There won't be no one left (ha ha) (on it) Parking lot's on fire, brothers peelin' out of the town They say in disgust, they singin' their guts Rappin' done let us down (down down) You got to be dead... on it Dead on it (Dead) All the sisters like it when you lick 'em on the knees Don't believe me? (no) Try it once then stop, they'll be begging Please, please, please (please, please, please) Shoo be doo wa, dead on it What does that have to do with the funk? Nothing, but who's paying the bills? If you don’t wanna lick my knees, I'm sho' your mama will Uh, cuz we, cuz we, cuz we dead on it De, de- de- de- de- de- de, dead on it, on it La, la, la, la La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la La, la, la, la My bed's a coffin, Dracula ain't got shit on me My nickname's Hell's-a-Poppin', I'm badder than the Wicked Witch I got a gold tooth, costs more than your house I got a diamond ring on four fingers, each one the size of a mouse They dead, they dead on it, on it La, la, la, la La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la La, la, la, la La, la, la, la La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la La, la, la, la Wait now, hang up, dial tone on the 3 You know, you know, I'm busy, to scizzy Can't nobody fuck with me Cuz I'm dead (on it, on it, on it) On it Shoo be doo wa wa, dead on it Dead on it, on it, on it Dang, dang, dang, dang, (dead on it) shoo be dang, dang, dang, dead on it Dead, dead on it