World Renown - Tommy Tee, A.G., Large Professor

We hit you off with the underground pound for pound

Rock from state to state son, world renown

Make cream across the globe, cock back and reload

Hip hop till your motherfucking ears explode

From the old school to new school, no school rule

Fuck staff and the students I was influenced by the truant

Number one with a dum dum like guns was cool

Jewel dropped every one and a half bar on the stool

The star by which they drool, girls moisten I hoisten

Skirts off they waist in the place they friend pointing

Mike Z double, always in some trouble

But it’s gon' be some puddles, bust lips and eyes bubbles

And a cold piece of steak on your face

Taking a bat race while I celebrate to a 24 bottle cases and plates

All drinks drunk straight

And don’t nothing get chased except for homeboy on the left

Smoking on that stress out my place

Yo, yo bat guns defend my gates

Pour out some liquor for Klate

And Little Shawn is gone

The same shit goes on

Like a long long song until I touch it for a taste

And got to go back into play

Yo it’s the actual factual, gigantic maximum

Hot rhymes smart, nigga with heart

So I show love and bless rap niggas and rep that

Real deal hip hop even with my shit chop

To the skull

Could never be dull

Have the bitches up on it and niggas like, «Yo

That’s Large Professor» oh yeah and I’ma let you know

On like the metronome where ever I roam

Mad shout outs and cheers for your ceremony

I’m never phony

I’m live and direct son ya know me

The kid that rocks Spanks and get lots of checks

Been in every building been in every projects

Been OT and overseas with officials

Speaking of big shit, you front I might diss you

Had both feet in this game from day one

Acknowledge it niggas stay rough and don’t polish it

Check, there ain’t many that can scorch A

G, it’s funny how they all say the Giant is greater

Everyday and all day from New York to Norway

Puff mud the raw way

Get brain, fuck the foreplay

It’s T productions, I lay heat on percussions

Word up, all y’all rappers can keep on trucking

I can’t be scorched

Raps even get the panties off

I step off and floss like Randy Moss

Did I really mention, I get head like Billy Clinton?

Tell you the beef is dead when it really isn’t

And the police harass us on the block for no reas'

Now-a-days shit’ll get hot we won’t leave

I’m holding like you holding

Throw it like you throw it

Straight head shots cause my vest shots the bullshit

Money, let’s stop the bullshit

Next stop’s the bull pen so bring the hook back in

«Worldwide»

«Pete Rock»

«Taking you worldwide so bust it»

«Worldwide»

«Mike Zoot»

«We on the clock, shit’ll start before it stops»

«Worldwide»

«I'm called the Mad Scientist, Extra P»

«A to the fucking G»