I Know I Got Skillz (Explicit)-Shaquille O'Neal

Yo Jef, why don't you give me a hoopa beat or something Something I can go to the park to Yeah, there you go, alright, I like that, I like that It sound dope (Bust 'em in the eye Shaq) You wanna fight? Come fight me I'll hit ya with the wa, psh, psh, psh, see, see I get dirty after dark, I'll treat like Spielberg You get your ass kicked in the park (Ohh) You don't believe me, the proof is in the pudding Little boy in the hood, way before Cuba Gooding I flip scripts with the mad pa-style, freeze, music please I dribble rhymes like Basketball-ems, people call me E.T. (What's that Shaq man?) Extra-Tall ems, you better than Shaq-tack, fool, shut up liar I lean on the Statue of Liberty when I get tired Then I'll punch you in the stomach, I don't give a heck (Hey yo, why you bug a hooker like that?) Yo, she breasted on my neck People walk around like yall, they got charred But I'm big like Gorilla, 6-7, large I kick rhymes like mo duck-kwong you I smoke-smoke the mic-mic, I Chech and Chong you You don't like Shaq, frankly I don't give a damn I know I got skillz man, I know I got skillz man Surprise, look who's back, not a prize from a cracker jack Look at that, it's Def Jef with the Shaq Attack Flexin', I'll be crackin' your back with the boom, boom, bap Pass the mic over here, you ain't gon' want it back Everybody said I got fat, yep, but so did my wallet Still ripping rhymes and dropping bombs like Ali, Mohammed Do yourself a solid, don't flex, you go sex You know the time, get the hard hat, the rolex The way I see, if I was wack like you I'd be at me The way I hold it down, you'd swear my name was Gravity Def Jef with the funk, Def Jef don't front You know how the name is spelt I'm making it vital, my title, fool, break yourself Attack the track like Shaq on a whack broad Coming up with the hits, and I'm coming down with the backboard Don't fake the funk, just make the sound's up from the trunk The reason your tape didn't hit the deck is Because your hits don't bump, so get back, ain't no hassle 'Cuz you ain't holding nuthin', keep sticking around You get beat down like you stole something Sleep on me and the Shaq and [unverified] your own [unverified] 'Cuz I know I got skills man, I know I got skills man Ah yeah, yall don't know nothing about this The Shaq man's in the arsenal, what's up like that Double XL in the nine-oh's kid, skillz to make mills Big up, Flava Unit, Funky Town, ya [unverified] large So check this out Shaq man We gon' let this beat play right here, let all The brothers and sister know Nah, nah, let me continue I'm a be like D-Rock and see what's next on the menu Mic-checka, the rim and rhyme wrecka, rocks from here to Mecca Boom shack-a-lak-a-lak-a, I got a hand that'll rock ya cradle Cream you like cheese, spread you on my bagle My Ford Explorer boomin' with the clumped-up funk All you jealous punks can't stop my dunks They're brand new like Heavy, built like Chevy, Impala But Shaq's a smooth balla (Yeah, but what about rhymin'?) I can hold my own, knick-knack shaq-attack, give a dog a bone Rhymin' is like hoopin', I'm already a legend Back in the days in the Fush-camp section Used to kick rhymes like baby, baby, baby Every once, every twice, three times a lady Is what I listened to, riding with my moms How you like me now? I drop bombs When you see me, please tap my hands I know I got skills man, I know I got skills man I'd like to give a shout-out to my boy Uzi, Def Jef, Little Swany, Meech Ron Mac and my other cousin Ron This is another rough shot from the arsenal And you know what? Booty rappers, stay booty Ha-ha-ha, and we out Ahhh ha ha ha ha, ahhh ha ha ha ha, ahhh, psyche