Thirstin Howl III

Brooklyn Hard Rock

Thirstin Howl III


(Unique London) 
Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock your style is mad tight 
Your style is mad tight your style is mad tight 
Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock your style is mad tight 
Your style is mad tight your style is mad tight 

(Thirstin Howl III) 
My mind is stronger than the pictures in your muscle books 
With more manners, than all of the Huxtables 
Pain before pleasure (U.L.: Death before dishonor!) 
Turn rap wannabe piranhas into "A Fish Called Wanda" 
Swordfish to mermaids 
I lay down the law without being represented by an attor-ney 
Overqualified, for all technical institutes 
I get the job done when you barely make it past the interview 
The streets is watchin, eyeballin, careful! 
Everybody wants a piece of me like I'm a James Brown sample 
Spittin flames
Call the fire warden! 
Out of town, violent tourist, glove grip 
Isotoner, sands of time, priceless moments 
Disguised as doorman, plug, vital organs 
With my bare hands, I fight your swordmen, smokescreen 
rifles scorchin, even my bible's stolen! 

(Unique London) 
Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight 
Your style is mad tight, your style is mad tight 
Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight 
Your style is mad tight, your style is mad tight 

(Thirstin Howl III) 
Imagine, life without handcuffs 
Concentration 
With the brain muscle tissue of Samson 
The benchpress, of a gold medal-ist, in the olympics 
Rifle reach of Manute Bol's two arms 
I'm shotgun ammunition, soon to be airing 
When I'm not in my shell (U.L.: All you see are his balls baring!) 
The rap, promoter, I start your motor 
with a screwdriver
Break into your crib woulda bent the door off 
Cuchada, or bent hanger 
Who wanna get it on? My mic is cocked, I'm overanxious!! 
Before battles, get a permit to come within two blocks radius 
Kiss your mother, see your preacher, and study fire-exit safety tips 
Bring witcha, a fire extinguisher 
I make the whole scene (U.L.: BLOODY!) with an English touch 
In ninety-eight I'm still robbin people for sheepskin gloves 
Had three gazelles, admitted nothing when I sat in my cell 

(Unique London) 
Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight 
Your style is mad tight, your style is mad tight 
Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight 
Your style is mad tight, your style is mad tight 

(Thirstin Howl III) 
A strongarm with lyrics, watch how I prove myself 
Whether shadowboxing or full contact I maneuver well 
About to have rap locked, with rhymes two to a cell 
Inmate in segregated housin unit refusin the mail 
Nervous, chain smoker, high blood pressure 
Master fool or court jester, lyrical sport experts 
Dress for tennis, the mind of Minolta with special-effect lenses 
Parade of all-stars, with Brownsville Bullet gold cards 
Don't played with a full deck, as positive as my drug urine test 
My rhymes do to your brain what bullets do to flesh! 
Rockin the house, the cradle, the boat, in the eighth grade 
coulda rocked the bells, but I was more comfortable in straight legs 
Strong, like the contribution to rap Kane gave 
My ego and my conscience refuse to share the same space! 
Treacherous like Naughty By Nature and Kool Moe Dee 
Wouldn't catch me Half Steppin', even if I lost both feet! 

(Unique London) 
Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight 
Your style is mad tight, your style is mad tight 
Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight 
Your style is mad tight, your style is mad tight 
Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight 
Your style is mad tight, your style is mad tight 
Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight 
Your style is mad tight, your style is mad tight