Artist: Makeba Mooncycle Album: Throwback Classics Song: Mind, Body & Soul Typed by: Cno Evil [Makeba Mooncycle] If you're not trying to build, why do I have to kill ya With lyrics to kill, it's never been realer Build the house of steel, versus sex appears Shine like the Moon, flip my mood to doom Hyper than a tab, got the gift of gab Writer resurrected, traders beheaded This beat's is regreted, competition gets deaded What's the matter with my words, harsh to the nerves Darts stay on lock, the traders get knocked Spray ship fatigues, it's all about the me With every emotion I breathe, not to squeeze Tempted to release, hard to keep the peace Bust only if frustration, elevate eliminating Soon be penetrating, sugar coated segregating To minds I'm stimulating, my lyrics amputated So why are you waiting? [Chorus: Makeba Mooncycle] Makeba's on the mic, and you know I gets down So come on party people, let's gather around I'm here to rock your mind, to your body and soul So come on party people, let's take control [Makeba Mooncycle] In the combation Gods, dismembered and disbared Slit, I hit hard, surrounds me on God The mother of your hawk, making hearts stop For we ride to rock, I tracks like Pac Keep it up non stop, bams til you drop I aim to be the greatest, while others remain tasting Some not creative, they lay with the haters I gotta keep it moving, peep you while you grooving I gaves you the must, let's keep it on the hush Hush identification, a real M.C. Keeping you moving from your head to your feet Straight catch no meat, you chickens'll eat Wave the white flag, yo, retreat, facing yo heat Let's take it to the streets, no justice, no peace No thoughts of defeat, casualties, don't delete, casualties, don't delete [Chorus 2X] [Makeba Mooncycle] I want hear impressive lyrics and flows, no nursing Nothing that your man wrote or you been rehearsing My trick tricks all clid-icks, usually when I'm in it Like the sign, multiplied, unified your pride And your friends eat like LaTania McClide They start shaking, and moving all around Control your mental, and listen to the sounds Touch me like a pita, the sound of Makeba And the God penalty, I'm in, some suckas wanna get me Peel me, beats are crispy, when I'm gone, you'll miss me, you know my history Feel with no mystery, the sounds of black and never got polite Smacked with another revelation, you know what I'm saying While you busy doing what you told, give me that mic You know you shouldn't even hold, all used up with no more chances You better off doing all them table dances [Chorus 4X]