Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Harry Hamilton McKenzie
Songwriter
Derek Simpson
Songwriter
Lyrics
Grrra
Uhh, yah, yah, yah, yah
Uhh, yeah, yeah, woah, woah
Woah, woah, woah, woah
Uhh, H-Mack, I'm that new guy
Spread my wings, take flight to the blue sky
Yeah, matter fact, I make these rappers panic
My lyrics got depth like the blue oceanic
Uhh, I go to bottom o' the sea
Off the top, I'm choppin' emcees
I rock another free, make you say, "Sheesh!"
H-Mack, the lyrical beast
Every time that I release
I'm the illest, though, capisc'?
Ay, I break it down smooth, y'all know we makin' moves
Start slow but I'm certain to improve
Ah, lock into the groove
Ah, y'all know I might knock out rapper's tooth
If I have to smash through, represent with mad crew
Do what I'm feelin', truly in the place
Leavin' corny rappers black and blue up in they face
Harry Mack, y'all know the bars I'm kickin' is true
A rapper said, "How'd I sound?" I said, "That blew!"
For real, homie, y'all know that I truly perform
I improvise like John Coltrane when he blew on the horn
Yeah, matter fact, better blow the siren
Ring the alarms, Harry Mack is cypherin'
No one is survivin', I dive in
To the blue depths o' the river
And flow like the Nile whenever I deliver
So, let me kick it, I'ma rap for y'all
Rappers, I'ma smash 'em all
Hit the ground and bounce back like basketball
Never no punk, these rappers is junk
Tell me what you want, kick the funk, hit the slam dunk
Make you laugh and do like, pfft, with your lips 'n shit
Rappers think they dope but they ain't nothin' but some hypocrites
Yeah, I improvise and I make a good song
Should to my homie with the white hood on
Spit it tight, good strong lyrics (come on, come on)
Rip the mic, yo, come on, come on
Yeah, my sentence a run-on, run-on
Lookin' for a track to stunt on, stunt on
I'm the one they couldn't front on, front on
I'm the real don, kill songs, ill songs
Light the fuse, drop bombs
Yeah, any track that's hot, I'ma hop on
Hot rhymer, got strong lyrics for the people when I flex
When it be comin' to lyrics, they know that I'm comin' up next
Doin' my bars in a hurry, y'all know I cause a snow flurry
I drop bars that's major with flavor like curry
Uhh, y'all know I'm that fly dude
I got flavor like curry, eatin' Thai food
Yeah, and y'all know my lyrics truly is hot
Matter fact, I'm Steph Curry when I'm shootin' my shot
Yeah, I got the wet flows, lyrics, they will expect those
Corny rappers, I'ma check those
I make you get low, my check grows
Yeah, meanin' salary increases
Yeah, pockets fat like calories, some beast shit
Yeah, leavin' kids deceased when I'm up on it, dawg I'm rockin' it
I said give me your fourth word, chocolate
Yeah, fuckin' A, what you say?
Harry Mack gon' cut a phrase
I'ma chop it down, got the hottest sound
H-yeah, uhh, ayo, y'all know I leave these kids punked
I got yo' cheeks, like a chipmunk
H-Mack, you know I'm really 'bout to bust it now
Ayo, my brain like yo' cheeks, 'cause it's puffin' out
It ain't nothin' now, got the hottest fuckin' sound
Leavin' y'all embarrassed, your sweatshirt is from Paris
So, I grip the mic and blast 'em with the rifle power
You got the badge for Paris showin' the Eiffel Tower
Uhh, y'all know I spit it with the flames that's rare
Peace to the homie who's chillin' in the gamin' chair
On the opposite o' Eiffel Tower
Yo, we got Michael Jordan reachin' for the layup
Rappers can't say stuff, I'm about to hit the dunk, though
Punk foes forever, tougher than leather
My bars are clever, lastin' forever
Leavin' rappers dead, god
Peace the homie vibin', I can see you got the head nod
Writer(s): Derek Simpson, Harry Hamilton Mckenzie
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