Knock Em Out The Box

(album: Master P - 2007)

Master P's in the house

P! Earatik Statik, what it do

Earth shattering, first the verse battering
Wrong colors on your turf, trafficking
What up? Sean the name you niggas ain't ready for
War, beef in these streets, and plus these metaphors
Sean's the bomb, Lebanon, Decepticon
Most high, most fly, bowtie like Farrakhan
All praises due to Allah
You have no idea what I'll do to you par
Listen, your face look like steak with the A1 sauce
When the God let the AR off, let's eat
I ain't a rapper that will battle on smack
I'm the rapper with the gat on your hat
Yo, rap prime minister, so sick sinister
Forward for a high punch, bitch that's how I finish ya
My rap's too slick, my gun's shoot shit
Earatik Statik, nigga that's magic in the mix
Don't make the God pop out led
City of God, I'll "Knockout Ned"
Motherfucker

Knock 'em out the box, G
Knock 'em out the box, G
Knock 'em out the box, G
Knock 'em out the box

If these gats tickle beanies they be doubling D's
With Sean P on the team trouble travels in threes
Get rough motherfucker, we can saddle this beef
For you tough motherfuckers we can battle and beef
I'll hit ya, split ya, lift ya hard enough to rattle your teeth
Fucking ya up, numbing your yaps, spit beef
Fumbling, stumbling, have you gumming your raps
I'm not the type to talk when you wait in the place
I'm the type that just might show up to your place
Come in and kick it with you, put two in your face
Tie you up, beat you down, and then head for the safe
I do walk with Jesus, but keep a nine on my waist
And I'll smack the Bejesus out along with the taste
See I'll run in your house and put a gun in your mouth
For nothing less than the fact that you was running your mouth
I'm like the crack Globetrotter, the black Muhammad Ali
Got the bong diggy ziggy plus the bomb itchy [?]
Finger on the trigger in figure to move the Prada

Knock 'em out the box, G
Knock 'em out the box, G
Knock 'em out the box, G
Knock 'em out the box

My heat settling, Silence your lambs like Ritalin
Prime time or late night like Dave Letterman
Razor sharp rhymes, sever the head every man
Crush upcoming acts, retire great veterans
I know it's hard but all praise due to the God
Study a learn what I could do to you par
Listen, I'm laced with napalm, to blaze your face off
Leave no traces where your features belong, that's heat
No, I'm not the kind to forget what you said
Yes, the tool's cocked back to pop led in your head
[?] that fitted cap, right in front of the crib
Dismember your ass then bury the gat under the shed
We the nicest out, fuck what you hear, fuck what they said
Earatik and Sean P, we the illest that lived
Fixed like a needle in your vain, making your temperature boil
I'm a master with my craft plus a nigga street loyal
We drop hits that rock charts consecutively
My niggas its got to be Earatik and Sean P

Knock 'em out the box, G
Knock 'em out the box, G
Knock 'em out the box, G
Knock 'em out the box