• Lyrics: play full screen play karaoke
• Non-Stoppin' The Groove - BUMS
• It's A Street Fight - BUMS
• Flex Uv A Finga - BUMS
• Wreck Your Ears (can Do) - BUMS
• Take a Look Around - BUMS
• Elevation (Free My Mind) - BUMS
• 6 Figures And Up - BUMS

[E-Vocalist]
You gets no respect when you're live as a still-born fetus
A B you C this, to prove it, a D hits
The E is, restless, so F this, who's next to get reckless
God protects this, only Malcolm X is equal
when it comes to motivatin people
Cool but at times I pack a tool like ?
Sly as a fox when I slapbox like Zsa Zsa Gabor
or get me open and I'm hell like Pandora
Before words are spoken, the herb pinch my nerve
like a Vulcan, lobotomizing MC's, splittin brain cells open
I'm dope when I make feet tap, like I'm
Sammy Davis Jr. with a glass eye full of crack
The Natural, is smokin a party like Carlos Rossi
Not Mario Van P., but run with a _Posse_
As the world turns I leave MC's with third degree burns
Get around like germs, stompin turfs like pachyderms
Sweeter than the man who made Duran say "No mas"
Cash is earned _Here and Now_ like Luther Van-dross
but I never been greedy
Ten percent of all the cash that I earn goes to the needy
[Chorus]
[D-Wyze]
They can't catch my groove, on the mic I take fools to school
Batter up, D-Wyze ties the force into a knot, smooth
Now watch the boy linger
from the shit that I produce, hits like ass on your fingers
Get it? Before the bombs blow like C-4
Priority's the label, All City is the door, slammin
Hip-Hop niggaz never heard before (Yeah?)
And givin you more and more, so check it
Brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, don't even bother
The rapper's also yo, a fuckin barber
Figured if this shit don't work I gotta have somethin to
fall back on, but for now, I stand strong
Put on my black Chuck Timberland boots
Stepped over the suede strip so I can pick up the scoop
HEYYY, hard hittin kids get loose
All samples get cleared quick, cause this crew got juice
The, habitual liar is me
I get head from off of Manny while I watch Dynasty
while I write, I write rhymes every night
I'm so bad, for what I wrote I had to fight
You punk-ass, D-Wyze'll never lose my moves
I get filthy over Joe's tracks, you can't catch my groove

It's a street fight!
[D-Wyze]
Hit hydro on the saddle never lost in a battle
Movin silent with the night so all you hear is my shadow
Stayin calm while the stress factor builds in my palm
If I decide, to drop the bomb, "Yoga flame!" like Dhalsim
No time for slackin, I'm attackin like the Greenpeace
Smushin your grillpiece, until the red juices release
Servin brains with rice, spillin blood over ice
Caught you peepin my moves, like Marcia Clark
on O.J. video highlights, you better straighten up and fly right
I know fakes like gold miners know pyrite
You know the profile, first, let your competition compile
Then watch me flip out, maniac killer style
We can get down, with the forces of gravity
"Sonic boom!" like Guile, cave in your chest cavity
Ice Ice, baby too cold to hold
Got the power like Balrog to make your body explode
[E-Vocalist]
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! I got the
mad crazy hard hittin kicks like Ken
Mad punches like Sway flows, the evil spits red phlegm
No more, no other shall surpass the fate
I've taken my destiny, it's death by temptation
So all bow down, all many crews, all many legions
so it's "Tiger uppercut!" that's my main reason so ahh
Leave me alone, let The B.U.M.S. see light
I live an everyday life, but still down for the Street Fight
"Move your body like you move your hands
and I'm sure you can move your feet" [x2]
[E-Vocalist]
AWWWWWWW! Watch out, you mighta met your match
Out here, training's like minimal, reflects keep you on contact
The flame bursts from deep within
Thoughts of one survivor, mad murder, meditation
Step into my arena and brothers don't even act right
Anyhow, anyway, somehow they're gonna Street Fight
Who's the Grand Supreme standin in this bloodstream
You keep, a stance like Ryu, and throw fire that's green
It's ah, so amazing that I slam like E. Honda
E-Vo flips like Chun Li, the lightning spits like Blanka
Who's the next opponent, I can do this all night
It's not the money or rep, I'm just down for Street Fight
[D-Wyze]
"Ta-dak-da-ya-KICK!" on your face so make way
The mad man with the fighting instincts that bust y'all pay
Targetting pressure points, provoking stress fractures, the
Street Fighter factor crack ya necks like a chiropractor
Mad intense, sweatin blood through my pores
Combatin predators, usin my fists to settle scores
No gats in my trunk, Street Fighting's for real

[Chorus]
Won't you come around to my side of town
So I can show you how the real shit goes down
Where the, neighbors complain of how the gunsmoke lingers
And lifes are taken with the flex of a finger
[D-Wyze]
D-Wyze is, drastic, the overlord in supreme rhymes
From the streets, sounds of a true mic fiend
I grab my dick two times for niggaz loafin on mine
If the punks got beef I gots to go for mine
Oakland's the city - I represent my heart and domain
From the barber to the rap is how I got my fame
Brothers is bad-asses, skipped all my high school classes
It turned out massive - now this kid is spinnin on plastic
Got niggaz, locked on my skills cause I'm givin 'em more
I spark the phil' with my man Bill on Jackie's top shop floor
Five-oh is hittin - it's drivin black brothers insane
Judges is givin three strikes, for the rock cocaine
Down with Mo Nitty (sup Mo) fuckin around got caught up in the city
So now it's, hear no evil, see no evil none is done
Two minimum misdemeanor for a small handgun
It's a buddha, but you know, that shit ain't real
For my brothers locked down y'know I know how you feel
But now I'm free! My revolution's appeared
I'm with the B.U.M.S., two rappers to fear
From fifty-fifth to Fleming, I'm leavin ALL niggaz tremblin
[Chorus]
[E-Vocalist]
I reminisce - when heavy artillery was a bat
But now out on the flats action's regulated by a gat
(Break yo'self fool) Five-oh attack explorin cracks like Magellan
In Alameda County there's a bounty on brothers that's sellin
Carry three felons it's twenty-five when the gavel drop
If not they plot, peep the covert ops
Take your drugs and guns, but leave your money to recop
Figurin - involvement with drugs will maintain
Now every day in my neighborhood's like a chess game
Playin for high stakes I smoke to keep my mind straight
Cause checkmates can mean ill fate (right)
While the number dead increases with the (farenheit)
In Oakland sunlight one might find means for relaxation
While fiends pray to the streets like crack's the salvation
(In the belly of the streets) ten years of incubation
My culture, provides me with the strength to face the nation

Ninety-five's the year my crew get ours right here
And the Brothas Unda Madness gonna wreck your ear - can do
[E-Vocalist]
E-Vocalist wrecks the mic and then I'm next son
[Rakim] ("But still say a rhyme after the next one")
Now if you don't like my crew, I don't give a damn
No introduction needed - you know who I am
The five foot nine pro, puffin on a blunt
Hittin much pussy 'less it's that time of the month
Rebirth of the mack, the illest on the map
And I'm all on rap, like a fiend on crack
My - style's contagious, spreadin like a virus
Leavin more "Achey Breaky Hearts" than Billy Cyrus
Tick tock around the clock, you should know
You can't get no props if you can't rock a show
Not with these - I shake MC's off the break like fleas
In school, I never got D's
Me fake nigga please! I really hate cheese
In fact, I really can't stand dirty raps
So breaker breaker, to Joe Quixx the beatmaker
Thanks for givin up tracks freakier than Seka[?]
Since I'm Oakland bound when I rock I catch a frown
but the moment I leave, you ask how can I be down?
Put my tape in your pocket, then lock it, down
Mark it, then rock it, all around town
In the alley or the slums, cali's where I'm from
In comes the boom so make room for The B.U.M.S.
Ninety-five's the year my crew get ours right here
And the Brothas Unda Madness gonna wreck your ear - can do
[D-Wyze]
Yo D-Wyze rip the mic, then I'm next son
[Rakim] (.. "But still say a rhyme after the next one")
Heyyyy! Here's a new tray that I made
so stop whining, cause I hit your honeydip's heiny
But I make you think we're not from Oak it's just hip-hop rappin
So niggaz give me daps and stop cappin
The Brothas are FREEEE, free like Mandela
I'm known from nasty NARCs as the mic dome sweller
I'm good for shockin niggaz like PG&E;
.. so what's up G?
I spark the fat phil' from the go to get you under my spell
If the wack wanna step to +-dy+ like +Norman+, they fell
And then the Son of Sam hand me tunes for the pussy
.. cause my funk flow makes 'em horny
I'm the, slim wild mad sweet but grand imperial
You bump me in the morning at the table eatin cereal
And then you ask your troops, "Who is he?"
These Under Madness Brothas - that's why we stay undercover
My styles cling like Comet, I make MC's vomit
Yo peace to Joe Quixx, that makes the B.U.M. pound
For better and for worse motherfuck what you heard
Ya hear me, honies grip your tits, cheer me
From Oak to Manhattan, one day we hittin platinum
Yo ask my nigga Sway - he know how it happened..
Ninety-five's the year my crew get ours right here
And the Brothas Unda Madness gonna wreck your ear - can do
[E-Vocalist]
E-Vocalist wrecks the mic and then I'm next son
[Rakim] (.. "But still say a rhyme after the next one")
Now I gets busy underground like gooks durin Vietnam
No sellin out because my mom didn't raise a tom
E-Vo's my name - I flex mad styles
I'm known for gettin nastier than maggots on a dead cow
At many clouds rockin crowds from here to China
I gets looser than the lips on a prostitute's vagina
So, sleep on my skills and sleep in grills they use for traction
Cause I put my thaaaaaaang, in action
Awakening crews in a rude fashion
On they ass like Mike Tyson at a beauty pageant
E-Vo is first, D-Wyze is the next one but
[Rakim] (.. "But still say a rhyme after the next one")
[D-Wyze]
Aiyyo I'm iller than a porno, I flip the microphone on
Ninety-five is my year to live fat like Sonny Bono
Two niggaz sparkin blunts, always hittin cunt
The Brothas Under Madness, knockin niggaz fronts
I'll persist to elevate the shit straight from the Oak
cause I'm broke - if I don't make it, I'm smoked
(Coolin out in Cali where the bass goes boom)
And when we step in the arena suckers leave the room
(Where, three out of three sweepin niggaz like a broom)
Pre-arrangin funerals engravin on their tombs..
[Rakim] (.. "But still say a rhyme after the next one")
[Rakim] (.. "But still say a rhyme after the next one")
[Rakim] (.. "But still say a rhyme after the next one")

[whispered]
Take a look around.. take a look around..
Take a look around.. take a look around..
[E-Vocalist]
Yo, I had dreams but financially didn't have the means
Wore dirty jeans and bought hot sneaks from dopefiends
I know it's hard but three bucks [?] is real
Out here gats kill sellin crack stackin money to chill
And 57th in the summer's like a hand grenade
Taps on that ass because my block stay paid
I'm not afraid, after money's made I parlay
Uptown burk after work at the arcade
Addicted, to cash like kids to cotton candy
And had many ways to slide papes to my phalanges
Even in high school my teachers knew the half
Cause if I wasn't in class, I'm the restroom playin craps
Keepin my game on tight like menstraul cramps
Sellin twenty rocks for sixty knocks of food stamps
But now I'm on the up, no time to live foul
Concentrate on stayin straight, cause now I got a child
All the while, King Tech, put it in effect
Engineered it all the ears and produced by Fredwreck
for a sec, use your mind to process the data
My sound hits hard like a real Oakland Raider
Never been a playa hater or a Phi Kappa Beta
But if you, front on me now E-Vo' attack that ass later
Until my dyin day I make papes and parlay
I've traveled around the world but make my home in the Bay..
[whispered]
Take a look around.. take a look around..
Take a look around.. take a look around..
[Chorus: x2]
I know you know where I'm comin from brother
You got to learn about yourself before you love another
Don't be afraid of what hides in the shadows
[Jeru] ("Leave your 9's at home and bring your skills to the battle")
[D-Wyze]
Well the kid be alright, my crews get you fived and live right
I'm ill, so watch the bad boy spill the phil's
What is it? Mad verbal off the fifty-fifth hill
So check the word life, because it's real
I was raised on this Eastside, the poor side of hell
Where all the crackfiends all dwell
Where the brothers sell knocks of twenty knocks on all spots
And get hemmed by track star Oakland [?] cops
I ran with a wild pack
Hard like Yukon trucks, with straps like backpacks
Stackin cash for the fun
I was nasty with my knucks cause I was taught when I was young
But shit, it's ninety-four ain't no fightin no more
I see blood all over the walls and niggaz on the floor
I'm mad dog - I'm tryin to make a leap like a frog
I wanted to do some new shit, write rhymes become a hit
I started off at CMT but that's another story G
A misconception of words, I had to cross to All City
Word life, now D-Wyze is stakin on the wife
I work hard for what I've gotten but I'm, still a little trife
Despite, the dope and violence, I love what I've done
Now stick my, dick in your eye so you can see where I'm cumin from
It's hard Oak, motherfuckin Cali
One time to stay alive, puffin blunts in the alleys
It's one world
[whispered]
Take a look around.. take a look around..
Take a look around.. take a look around..

I gotta free my mind [x4]
I gotta free my mind.. free my mind
Yeah, I gotta free my mind.. free my mind
I gotta free my mind.. free my mind
Yeah? I gotta free my mind.. free my mind
From sand docks to auction blocks to R&B;
from hip-hop, how many rappers flip-flop to get props?
Signed the dotted line but didn't read through the costs
(When your album sits on the desk) "That's when ya lost!"
Followed your label's notion no promotion now you're audi
And that's the type of moves that make an artist act rowdy
Emcees fallin victim to financial, seduction
Then watchin creative weight extracted, like liposuction
Your A&R; like C'n'R got many styles to suit ya
But if it's false to me I've never been an ass smoocher
Since I don't brainwash minds, with talkin nines and
how I shoot ya, it seems no multi-million dollar contract's
in my future, I could swallow the bait and get gassed
like petroleum, but contracts break like Rock Steady
on linoleum, no wack'n in my format, no Grammy awards
Rap over break loops and samples, no R&B; chords
On a mission from God, to make the concious souls nod
when I'm rhymin, I take tracks of coal and then
compress em to a diamond, I'm in the mindstate
to escalate, when all rappers participate
it's fate for rap to elevate..
[Chorus: x2]
I gotta free my mind (yo as a matter of fact)
I gotta free my mind (we're not goin out like that)
I gotta free my mind (we got the power to stay)
"Other rappers, they went slip slidin away"
You're goin, downtown to leave your mark on the biz
You reminisce, you and your A&R; was first friends
You got talent and you ain't afraid to splurge hip-hop
Better thrills than Jordan alley-oops the pill but still
got verbals like murder, so call on Perry Mason
Twenty-five to life, is what I'm facin, for this fate's in
the element of fine print I've read it and overseen
by judgmental pompous ass phonetics, the critic
I'm still the rapper for the rhymes that he expresses
or manifestes, no frontin, I wrote the shit while blunted
Take control, don't be a fuckin fish on a pole
Label'sll leave you murdered in a river with no soul
it's true, for what you say is what you do with the flow
For labels MC's come and they go, but B.U.M.S.
we leave our mark for hip-hop's devestation
In our strive to stay alive for my record's elevation
[Chorus]
I gotta free my mind.. free my mind
Yeah, I gotta free my mind.. free my mind
I gotta free my mind.. free my mind

[x4:] "Money money money money, c'mon y'all.."
[D-Wyze]
Wait a minute I got you, now let D-Wyze rock you
At a party all night, I make the bitches go crazy right
I got the rhymes to make the niggaz roll up the blunts - tight
You can't hit what you can't see
It's me - D the barber, MC
Hard hittin to represent the hell where I'm from
I get live like a forty-five pumpin straight out Oakland
I'm nasty - like snot check the fifty-fifth block
Where all around the city, every kid got a glock
But tell me shorty, sittin on the porch with a 40
I gotta find a way to make the money (bang - money)
A fast lick, and I gotta do the shit quick
Call up my nucca DJ, the latin Joe Quixx
So tell me brother - I need six figures and up
I've been workin nine to five, and I'm shit outta luck
My wife is gonna leave me cause my pockets ain't fat
I never break myself for a bitch again so FUCK THAT
.. it's time to go for self, no frontin
There's no cash in my register, and my shop is always open
Linked up with Sway back in 1988
Ninety-four I'm Under Madness and I just can't wait, so uhh
Tie up your Timb boots, and rustle up a few troops
All City's got flavor and yes, I'm the bad scoop
for ME, D-Wyze the habitual liar
If my records don't sell, my crew'll set me on fire
I need six figures and up..
[Chorus]
[x7:] "Money money money money, c'mon y'all.."
[Audio Two] "I get money - money I got"
[E-Vocalist]
Whether East or Westbound when I step through your town
Like sixteen ounces I get a pound
Niggaz know I'm down and don't fuck around plus I
carry the sound, like feces in a baby's diaper
Packin weed inside of my harris(?) tweed sniper
I'm the type of, nigga that's determined
For the cash, turn my ass green like Erick Sermon
I take cash out to play at a church sermon
Eyes burnin, cause I'm up on tour
I need dough for the show, and ten percent off the door
Before; steppin to hoes was a gamble
Now I got cash they wanna talk like Tevin Campbell
I got game like Payton, at Lambeaux
Break like eggs and I'll leave your brains scrambled
The don, layin your girl like a futon
Tossed her like a salad then squashed it like a cruton
Only my folks respond when I male bond
And duck-ass niggaz, waddle back to your pond
Sway provides the shot like a pump
Ninety-four's my year to come up like Donald Trump
[Chorus]
[D-Wyze]
Now that we're pumpin six figures and up
A lot of suckers always front that we made it by luck, but listen
Every rapper got the spunk when it comes for the
.. "money money money money, c'mon y'all" - it's true
The Brothas from the All City group
Priority's the label, that keeps my pockets stable
Now, D-Wyze the mic stalker
I'm in control of my goal so I'll, skip the barber
I'll, save it, put it in my pocket for later
Daps if you're my troop maybe I'll fade that ass later
but still, I gotta have the top dollar bill or buck
I need six figures and up
[E-Vocalist]
Not two, not three, not four, not five
Six figures and up, is what I need to survive
Never hung with a crew, cause niggaz change like ya climate
Spent most of my time in solitary, confinement
Back in eighty-nine I wrote rhymes on the down low
Now I feel verbal to heat the world like Chernobyl
Niggaz know my name throughout the universe
I bust rhymes like a nine to watch your whole crew disperse
As my name blooms it's safe to assume
I'm in the back room, puffin on blunts like a vacumn
Consume, the boom puts my mind in tune
and pretty soon, niggaz on my nuts like Fruit of the Loom
This is to whom it may concern
Mics are burned so the cash that I get is earned