Lyssa True Poet - Mic Check

Mic check, testing, testing
One two, one two
Hands in the air, hands in the air
I mic check I one, two
Up high, up high
Right jab, hook left ooouuu
Hands in the air, hands in the air
I mic check, I one, two
Get live, get live
Can't knock me off, but they try to
Hands in the air, hands in the air
I mic check I one, two
Up high, up high
Right jab, hook left ooouuu
Hands in the air, hands in the air
I mic check, I one, two
Get live, get live
Can't knock me off, but they try to (ooouuu)
I mic check I one, two, on the beat I Floyd May
You average with that mouth, at least that's what these hoes say
I'm coming with a bang call it B41
P800 onyx lasers, maxim machine gun
Got a bad bitch with a pecan tone, she don't like to be called that (oops)
Make sure I check my voicemail, she don't like when I don't call back
I dropped a cover you saw that, dropped a track you heard it
Did some shows, I rocked that, dropped a project you curbed it
I got more than one flavor, give you more than one hue
I got more than one hater, who got more than one view
Fuck you, and your misery, you really ain't shit to me
I gas you like a grill, fire it up, rotisserie
You old paper that's history, I'm front cover updated
Couldn't keep up on a feature, nah True Poet always slay it
Know my name, don't ever say it unless you talk amongst my rival
Out of ear shot from the real ones who know I hold the title
Hands in the air, hands in the air
I mic check I one, two
Up high, up high
Right jab, hook left ooouuu
Hands in the air, hands in the air
I mic check, I one, two
Get live, get live
Can't knock me off, but they try to
Hands in the air, hands in the air
I mic check I one, two
Up high, up high
Right jab, hook left ooouuu
Hands in the air, hands in the air
I mic check, I one, two
Get live, get live
Can't knock me off, but they try to (ooouuu)
They all on my head, all on my heels, still I don't speed up
I keep my own pace, relaxing with my feet up
And I don't do the backwoods, raw papers hold my weed up
Please keep ya girl busy man, she taking all my time that's freed up
Honestly it's not much, so don't get your panties in a bunch
But if you keep on leaving her starved, she gone keep coming back for this lunch
That's all I feed her, that and Casamigos tequila
I one two like I do these beats beat beating up on these speakers
Chicken wrap make it ceaser, make it white wine, no twist top
Was born and died, reborn again, who I am bitch I'm hip hop
No quick scheme, no ploy, though they plotting upon my failure
I'm eating amongst Queens, I hold conversation through prayer
Invincible, is my poetry know it's not physical, partially political
Half analytical, half for no reason but always original
They tried to tap in but your lies, they ain't admissible
Lyssa True Poet lil bitch, I'm a lyrical God
Lil bitch better get on your job, broke another month better make that head bob
(Hahaha) I'm just playing
I don't promote prostitution but I should start pimping you wack rappers
Hands in the air, hands in the air
I mic check I one, two
Up high, up high
Right jab, hook left ooouuu
Hands in the air, hands in the air
I mic check, I one, two
Get live, get live
Can't knock me off, but they try to
Hands in the air, hands in the air
I mic check I one, two
Up high, up high
Right jab, hook left ooouuu
Hands in the air, hands in the air
I mic check, I one, two
Get live, get live
Can't knock me off, but they try to (ooouuu)

Written by:
Alyssa Anderson

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave

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