Strike A Nerve

Intro: Vin Rock

(Strike a nerve)
Yo bitch, it was some bitch in a seminar
talkin bout you had to get up early to wax this
(Strike a nerve)
Them other motherfuckers said you couldn't even wax that dirty bitch
So wassup y'all?
(Strike a nerve)

Verse 1: Treach

I get my daily dose of cha-cha-cha and ";Shut the fuck up, ho";
Shit, shaved, and bathed e'ryday then I must go
Ugh, this is Everyday All Day, let's all say
Pluckin enough and roughin em up and fuckin em up always
Bet, let's talk about a back flash, ya jackass
That fast you flash witta match, your fast rap
And even though you didn't know me before the flow solo
It's no slow way to go, bolos I throw or sold
Let's pick a bitch to pick with, peekaboo
I see you thru your crew, now whatchu wanna do?
After that, caps off to the black frost
My pants always sag cos I rap my ass off (Oooooh)
You wanna talk about a badboy *?sanchoi?*
I'm bad as they come, chum, straight up ricochet rap style
To Vin Rock and KayGee, I'm the baby
Droppin the ladies, cravin ya maybe, I have the right to be lazy
Got more stretch to my swing and the stretch of a chicken wing
The flavor is bacon and its cravin is icecream
I'm too trucked to be fucked and too live, otherwise
Ya drive by's smuffler, word to the mother, my brother eyed
Runnin and comin, drama starin wit a stellar
I need so many lumps, I'll use your head as a braille book
Many friends ships ink, quick, fast
It'll take a dollar worth of gas to outlast your little tired ass
You tried to swing this way, you little swifty
(Ha ha ha, slum bitches still miss me)
I do the dumpin, humpin, clappin like thunder
and that's comin from a land down under

Interlude:

Yo, I'm sick of dis shit, man
Niggas tryin to cut, they rocks none (Strike a nerve)
Yo, they tryin to make us drop, Vin Rock sayin he don't rock enough
Yo kick that shit

Verse 2: Vin Rock

Prepare for the worst, cos I ain't livin loss
I wouldn't just give a fuck, cos givin is free and my fuck's cost
????? your loss in The Source, cos I know no way
I been there before, maybe 5-6 times a day
Sometimes I put my hands on my head when I'm done, from
and wondered to myself where did dat def shit come from?
And then I think about the Naughty and the Nature in it
and then the Flavor then the figures while I'm flowin wit it
So I won't give up, stop, stall, quit, ya kitten
You can't touch this, fuck what them throats written
I got tracks, better known as snaps, far forbidden
And the warm do, I know, I know how to make ya feel it
I'll take a head, I'll make ya spread and now lay back
I tell you once, I tell you twice, Vinnie don't play that (You don't?)
So don't start, there will be none is the lesson, folks
I hate cigarettes but my Smith & Wessun smokes
>From anywhere, from any corner, anytime that's right
Who you bashin? I go blast in broad daylight
You stand hard, you look hard, yeah, your figure's soft
I got nuff props from buckshots that niggas caught
Ya say you can't go to the takin me out close
Huh, in that case, you shoulda named your album ";Almost";
I wouldn't rely on the try if I was you, yo
Cos I'm turnin tries into ";oh oh's"; and ";hell no's";
I wouldn't be caught dead witchu up in tryin it
And if I was goin, I get my stiff ass up and rip shit
I can't go out like a wooden sock with padlocks
I'll leave tacks tiny and slimy like snot spots
I write a day, to me, it's a common caper
Say so much shit, huh, I write my rhymes on toilet paper

Interlude:

Yeah, Vin Rock, backbone of Naughty By Nature, y'knowI'msayin?
(Strike a nerve)
That's right, so everybody sleepin on the up, stay off of my dick
(Strike a nerve)
We're gonna stomp this time around, word up
(Strike a nerve)

Verse 3: Treach, Vin Rock

Look who's mother's in the studio, thirty sons and daughters
Mrs. Happy Thing is in the back catchin quarters
Come and try to run wit it, never in a lifetime
Thirty ????? could act at Caesar's, still I bet I get mine
I heard your girl's havin a baby, now will what she have?
A bag of dope, a bottle, or crack, or a sess bag
There ain't a part of me with 'sorry' written on it, slick
You couldn't rock a crooked cradle, you fuckin prick
The way I rock could shit, you just often like it
My style's so fat I had to throw it on a water diet