The Edge Of The Blade Lyrics

"The Edge Of The Blade" was written by Lawson, Craig Stephen / Lawson, Craig Stephen / Tyler, M. N.
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"The Edge Of The Blade" was written by Lawson, Craig Stephen / Lawson, Craig Stephen / Tyler, M. N.
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Come here.
I got sumthin to tell you.
I don't know how to explain it... but, I'm different.
You crazy? Naw, I ain't.
I'm just saying. I'm, I'm not like you.
I'm not like others.
It's like I've been here before.
[Verse One]
504's the dope name, I don't play
MY RHYME GON BANG!
Make the 8 for the pape, light the flame
Ignite like propane
No sweat, no blood, no pain, no gain (Blade!)
No guards, no deal, no dice, no game, no thang
I'm giving you bitches sumthin vicious
Got em falling to pieces like porcelain dishes
I'M DIRTY!
I get all the way down to the ground, BITCH, WHAT!?
Memorize this by the pitch, by the book... I DON'T GIVE A FUCK!
I was blamed to BLOW! Ground rebucked!
Stay here... LAY DOWN AND GET FUCKED!
Nigga, you underneath me, out my entries
Out my entries, I can count a hundred thousand pennies every century
Look at that, look at that, look at that, GET BACK!
I get very scary like the Gatlin... BITCH, WHAT'S HAPPENING!?
I rip tracks and pop tapes
I'm so popular, they just gosta rock what I spray
It's time I gotta watch what I say!
I get surprised when sumthin from round the crocodiles play
Oh, won't be nothin'!
I make em say, "Aw, give it to me, don't be that way!"
I'm telling ya, I'm cutting into ya w/ the music
I been doing this shit, I'm highly trained on how to use it
The objective supply the proper perspective
Tacky or selective, maximum effective
Narcoleptic, brine neglected
It just don't get no cooler, if I don't perfect it
Y'all niggaz couldn't pop a rubber band on my brain
Chopping and slicing with the edge of the blade!
[Chorus: KLC]
The Blade!
(24X)
[Wesley Snipes]
There are worse things out tonight than vampires.
[N'Bushe Wright]
Like what?
[Wesley Snipes]
Like me!
[Verse Two]
I turn a sucka into a supper!
They gotta suffer!
Bout a had enough, that's why I'm coming!
COME ON, FUCKER!
I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired
They can't hide from the pain 'cause the noise won't stop
They don't stand a ghost of a chance, but they try
A side of my mind tell me to get em
Bloody side, lettin it ride
Even when a couple hundred years go by
They still gone bite and I'm still gone fly
Yes, five fingers around they necks
I run thru your back and come out your chest
You moving too fast, forgot to brace yourself
AW SHIT! Here it come, nigga, brace yourself!
Oh my God!
Don't worry, I'm a get ya, it don't matter how I put it
Let me say sumthin, let me talk in the telly
Let me stand as tall as the fellas
You would, if you could, but you don't git up off it
I'm the hand on the hammer, on the nail, in the coffin
I'm marching to a different drummer
At the head of the parade, I'm the edge of the blade!
[Chorus: KLC: 32X]
[KLC saying "Blade" w/ marching sounds till fade]
Mystikal appears courtesy of No Limit / Jive Records, 1998.
Posted by Shy-Stee JB

Songwriters
LAWSON, CRAIG STEPHEN / LAWSON, CRAIG STEPHEN / TYLER, M. N

Published by
Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, Universal Music Publishing Group

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