Live from New York it's Saturday Nite
Live from New York it's Saturday Nite
Live from New York it's Saturday Nite
Live from New York it's Saturday Nite, yeah Ayo kid, for years I've been into rap
Writing funky rhymes to get my name on the map
And by now I know I'm hitting
'Cause I say a rhyme and girls be like, no he didn't I'm so nonchalant, word to my uncle and my aunt
I serve MC's like a restaurant
It ain't where you're from it's where you're at
So in that case your butt better step like a frat 'Cause juice I got a lot of vapors
While you gotta quit, I'm always rolling with Umdada, ***
When I deliver I make you shiver
If a guy try to front, I have to show him I'm the problem giver Girlfriend you're gonna be in bad shape
If you expect Uneek to take you shopping like a demo tape
I'll tell your brother Jack to be nimble
'Cause if you want beef we can clash like a cymbal You need to stop all the yelling and the cursing
I know it foul, he couldn't house a homeless person
We don't cuddle in the Eyceurokk huddle
While verse is subtle, and then we wet you like a puddle One lyric from the gut, so what?
You want to strut like you're bad and then you might get had
Yeah, it's cool, it's gonna be all right
'Cause live from New York it's Saturday Nite, forever Live from New York it's Saturday Nite
Live from New York it's Saturday Nite
Live from New York it's Saturday Nite
Live from New York it's Saturday Nite It's the offbeat, on beat, man with the mostest
Like Hostess, I bake MC's and oh and you knows this
So 1 2 3 4, for whom the bell is tolling
I'm rolling with Umdada and I'm um holding my swollen
And doing the project dance from back in the days It's the Master, the Ace and yo, I'm black and it pays
So bust the move on the mad offbeat tip and
It's the dopest, but can you cope this, by far the hippest
Hat on sideways or backward, I knew a funky track
Would open up the ears of the black hood I'm not rough mouth, Richie or the Fonz
I'm no joke, I school that ass like St. John's
Some come get a little bit, hit hard like a rock
And open up the door 'cause I'm knocking Ready or not, here I come in a hurry and
It's Masta Ace, Steady Pace, Paula Perry and
Eyceurokk with the 4 Building storm and
Welcome to the Bates Motel, my name is Norman I got the mad knife, I'm mad mean
I killed mad crews, I read Mad magazine
So break it down for the heads with the dreads
For the baldies and the fades, for the blues and the reds Here comes the crazy drunken style, take a swigga
As I take my finger of the trigga for the Lord Digga
Lord Digga, the microphone mutilator
With the hardcore data to mash mother***ers like potatoes I get a load of a punk who tried to *** me
You wanna know why? 'Cause I spit on spectators
My style is rough, ruck and rugged on the ill tip
Blowing the *** up, sending pussies looking for microchips Mad mad styles get flipped when the cordless gets gripped
Not a gang member but I got Tales from the Crip
I'm mad mad funky like Silk, take a sniff of my ass crack
Mother***ers stay wack as my pockets get fat like an elephant I'm far from benevolent, I'm up your ass for the hell of it
I'm catching wreck on your record or cassette tape
Now I can't wait to catch mother***ers that slept late
I flip the hardcore *** so little punks you know
That's how it goes on Saturday Nite Live from New York it's Saturday Nite
Live from New York it's Saturday Nite
Live from New York it's Saturday Nite
Live from New York it's Saturday Nite, yeah Eyceurokk consists of three, first is Rokk Deisel
My brother Uneek and then there's me, nigga
I wear the orange and the black cap
Black and orange jersey on my back
Baddest nigga in the pack and I work to get my loot, shoot I'm turning heads like a handicapped prostitute
Son, you gotta believe me that I'm a be rockin' you, rockin' you
But I'm not Davert Leavy, I'm hitting rappers 'til they stagger
And if he's a bragger, I'm gonna watch him fall like Niagra
Oops, oh, time for him to go Take him to the morgue, put a tag on his toe
Not the type you can play a game with
*** around, look at all the niggas that I came with
Stop ***ing, there will be no tomorrow, you'll feel sorrow
I'm knocking niggas down like Mark Navarro 'Cause rap is not a toy, if you're in it for the bones
You'll be Home Alone just like that little white boy
Master Eyce is on the way and live from New York
I'm catching wreck on a Saturday Live from New York it's Saturday Nite
Live from New York it's Saturday Nite
Live from New York it's Saturday Nite
Live from New York it's Saturday Nite It's Saturday Nite, it's Saturday Nite
It's Saturday Nite, it's Saturday Nite
It's Saturday Nite, it's Saturday Nite
It's Saturday Nite, it's Saturday Nite Live from New York it's Saturday Nite
Live from New York it's Saturday Nite
Live from New York it's Saturday Nite
It's Saturday Nite