What A Feelin' Lyrics - Keith Murray

Kaboom! Guess who stepped in the room? 

Lookin' like the creature from the Black Lagoon 

There's gonna be a 187 real soon 

If some niggas don't give me some elbow room 

I'm runnin with the Legion of Doom 

Like a pack of wolves foamin at the mouth on full moon 

I track range between space and time 

And push back like receding hair lines 

That's the essence of the effervescence 

At this melodic dynamic shit progresses 

A mic murderer for hire 

As I sit back and watch your little gimmick backfire 

Under the circumstances in any order of events 

I be with sick niggaz rollin thick 

Dissin the system got America mad at me 

Like my name was O.J. Simpson 

My style is all that and a big bag of chips with the dip 

So fuck all that sensuous shit 

The astronomical is comin through like the flu bombin you 

My style is all that and a big bag of chips with the dip 

So fuck all that sensuous shit 

The astronomical is comin through like the flu bombin you 

My style is all that and a big bag of chips with the dip 

So fuck all that sensuous shit 

The astronomical is comin through like the flu bombin you 

Get off my d.k., you pitty pat bitch, stepped into the party 

People wonderin' if I'm a start some shit 

Prisoner of the media very often 

Cause people be blowin shit out proportion 

False information and bogus arithmetic 

Got everybody stuck on stupid, misinterpretating shit 

How could I? Why should I damage my career? 

Over a nigga that'll probably bust me out of fear 

Don't let your mouth get you into somethin that your ass can't get out 

When I see you, I'm a pull your dreads out your scalp 

Caution code red 

I could kill you now but instead I'm a put this thought into your head 

I got the illest crew in the industry 

We could go to war for 30 years like foreign countries 

Yo, slow your roll 

Cause I don't really think you know with what you dealin 

My style is all that and a big bag of chips with the dip 

So fuck all that sensuous shit 

The astronomical is comin through like the flu bombin you 

Man, fuck bitches, I'm getting money 

And laughin at these clown ass niggaz like they funny 

The grand imperial with milky material 

I be the surprise in the bottom of your cereal 

One thing I gotta say, my Squad never lost it 

Unlike you corny MC's out there who Farrah Fawcett 

Can't rhyme, runnin your mouth all the time 

While Def Squad sit back and enterprise perfect crimes 

Got the Funk Lord squeezin the life out of keyboards 

While each MC tear the frame out of mic chords 

Yo I was in the bullpen with them niggas pullin heists 

Grown ass men crying like little mice, but I'm a bounce true indeed 

Cause punk ass only bagged me with two ounces of weed 

Now I'm back in the city lights 

And all I can think about is keepin it tight