Hip-Hop/Rap
Winnetka Exit
by Styles of Beyond
Release Date:
1999-06-12
Lyrics
Hu, I'm like hu-hu
Hu, I'm like hu-hu
Aiyyo, first things first
It's time to shake ground in the eighth round
Box battle and break down
For the beak in the rhyme tone
Jump in the cyclone
S-T-Y-L-E-S, yes I know
Give the rap scene vaccine
Packed red beam
Put 'em up, what the ****
You plucked a bad seed
Off the wall, spittin' the guerilla tag team
What's up now, duck down stuff that can't breathe
Yo, you know the routine, the demon effect
Please, don't step, you wanna be one of my pet peeves
The more beef the better; sound gay
But you all wanna sleep together, okay?
In the club we don't sneak Berettas
Why not? We got so much street credit, the ****in' police let us
Now that's bullshit, cause we don't pack heat
So come and get your head crackin' up at me
Kick it, movin' it's on now
Making it punk loud
Shaking the buck wild
Rapin' the punk style
Fakin' the funk pal
Dunk watch the punk
What now? Watch your battleship get sunk down
Click, pow, nine, thou, what? Just what I thought what's up now?
Click, pow, nine, thou, what? Just what I thought what's up now?
Hu, I'm like hu-hu
Hold it down, never give in
Styles ever get limbs
Or whether you want it to end
Dirty syringe, I burn 'em again
'97, serving them since
Or thirty your friends get knocked out, turbulent wind
Hopped out, what you want, bare bourbon and gin
I'm a fish, you can tell by the hookers & fins
C'mon
Yo!, I got a rock style
Pivot the offspring and joke with 'em
With a distorted guitar stream
Who am I? Russian roulette? Who and Tak?
Pushin' your bed hotter than Quebec in July
Area 5-1, stereo, rive gun live
Here we go, S-O-B drop some
For the kids in the hall with the new block tape
Blast from both angles like Boondock Saints
So get up, get up and let the sound hit ya
Snap this audio-style picture, uh!
Kick it, movin' it's on now
Making it punk loud
Shaking the buck wild
Rapin' the punk style
Fakin' the funk pal
Dunk watch the punk
What now? Watch your battleship get sunk down
Click, pow, nine, thou, what? Just what I thought what's up now?
Click, pow, nine, thou, what? Just what I thought what's up now?
Uh!, Who the hell wear splittin' the belly up on a selfish
Shinnin' in your style playin' the fell blitz
Drillin' your brain, like rap and video games
Spin the syringe, with the Styles, stick it into your veins
Yo!, what kind of shit is he on?
(Really is Styles, really)
Be on, C'mon punk **** off, you really gotta be gone
Ripped out of your brain
Piss covered in shit to dispossess your B-game
Son of a bitch, I'm gonna start killing for kicks
They're in an Air Force One, on the globe, I can't fit, get it?
I'm sick with it, when I spit the venom and it drips up in 'it
And it gets the women in a quick dilemma, we can settle it now
And I don't know who did it but they said it was Styles
Click, pow, nine, thou, what? Just what I thought what's up now?
Hu, I'm like hu-hu
Hu, I'm like hu-hu
Click, pow, nine, thou, what? Just what I thought what's up now?
Click, pow, nine, thou, what? Just what I thought what's up now?
I'm like hu
