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Artist: Mountain Brothers
Album:  Self Volume 1
Song:   Whiplash!
Typed by: mutumbo6@yahoo.com

Chorus (All): (x2)
Catchin' Whiplash!
Nowadays everybody wanna get cash
Whiplash!
Tryin' to make a hit smash
Whiplash!
Fuckin' wit' the MBs?
Think fast, you'll catch a bad case of whiplash

[Styles]
Yo, let's get right into this
Styles on the mic, omnipotent
Average rapper's times limited, to rhymes imminent
MB's skills unfadable, y'all's debatable
Y'all get on the mic and little kid's go "can we play that too?"
I slide your girl just 'cause you're bothering me
While you're bangin' on the door she talking
"How 'bout some privacy?"
I'm quite humorous, women bag numerous
Arrogant rapper with a bad case of hubris
Don't lose my gist, vocab illuminous
Girl you takin' out while doing it, well, if you insist
Relax I'm just mackin' it for practice
Yo she playin' hard to get but she ain't that good an actress
That's it, y'all can say what you like
But the fact MBs whip y'all in shape on the mic
That's right

Chorus (x2)

[Chops]
Cats don't want to see no part of Chops
I get more trim than barbershops
Tag your ass like I was a graf-head
Plus I be running through marching lot
I'm hard to stop, 'cause while you stir the pot
I'm gettin' it on wit' your john in the parking lot
Damagin' cones, up on your gramophones
Introducin' the ??, servin' heads like Indiana Jones
Chops, MBs, we on the rostigory (?), and plus, I bust
Get up in that ass like a suppository
Superfly like ??, we rappin' for the east detention
All up in there, spreading, just like a yeast infection
Had it rough, now we in the house and laugh it up
I'm like a sumo gettin' the drawers, because I'm fat as fuck
Tried to get the best of the complex, but it's no contest
We comin' off just like a bomblet
Why you couldn't stand me? The shit that I'm creatin'
leave you shakin' like a kid whose family left you with a british nanny

Chorus (x2)

[Peril-L]
Peril-L I'm pleased to meet you tonight
MB's the feature inside
Release the creature within, proceed to eat you girls
In bleachers, sellin' t-shirts, bras, and g-strings
Some drawers and keyrings, toss from me to king 
>From the lost world, produced, rare flows, born and raised
I used to wear clothes that was torn and frayed
Let's be warned I'm crazed, with the sword that slays
My, blows to the ears, 'cause over the years
I've been scorned and praised
Hated and loved, now rated above
The best, gold-plated glove, caress the mic
Great enough to bless, since the erogenous
The misogynous, I won't have step on virgin MCs, androgynous
They don't have sex, dodge my fist, came to reclaim my properties
And put a stop to these, pseudo hip hop monotonies
Like living fast, big cash, switches and monopolies
I'm giving cats whiplash, like bitches that's on top of me

Chorus (x2)

Catchin' Whiplash!
Nowadays everybody wanna get cash
Tryin' to make a hit smash
Uh... yeah