Masta ace incorporated ain't u da masta lyrics

Here come the jams, yo punks, guard your domes

It's the man with the mad new styles and funky poems

So strike one, strike two, strike three, you're out

Of luck, Jack, fuck that, grab your nuts and shout

(Ain't you the Masta?) Yep, I've always been

And then, I'm a stab a fucking critic with his pen

So write that, put that in your magazine and stick it

I'm wicked, just like a witch when I kick it

So break out your charts and scales and try to rate me

Give me a one, son, yep I hope you hate me

Cause I'm a keep on bringing it, I'm swinging it

Sharp like glass til your punk ass is swinging it

Riff-raff, your whole damn staff I have to cut up

I drop bombs, I'm fatter than your moms, so what up?

I come from the planet of raps on, oh yeah

Beam me up Steady, there's no skills down here

So there, you little punk sitting in your chair

Soon you're gonna know the score kids, I swear