Freestyle Friday: Masta Ace vs. Ed O.G.

ED O.G & DA BULLDOGS
“i got to have it”

I stay hard like an erection I’m burnin
suckers who wear protection now whose next when Ed’s flexin
I’m the bread and you are just a crumb off
Jerkin your jimmy but you still can’t come off
I’m from Roxbury the ‘Bury but not the fruit y’all
Don’t make me act like where I come from cause it’s bru tal
Hold my bone in a zone that’s neutral
Soon to be large the whole nine yards, but I ain’t souped y’all
Suckers be swearing that their staring is gonna scare me
Look but don’t touch, and if you do be prepared G
to go out, just like your first day off punishment
Da Bulldogs, Roxbury, and Boston is what I represent
The Black United Leaders Livin Directly On Groovin Sounds
At first you didn’t know us, but know it’s like, “Yo put me down”
We didn’t get in there so you can get in with us
You wasn’t down when we was ridin the bus
So put on your Adidas, and STEP OFF.. I got to have it

ED O.G.
“on fire”

Everything I write is a masterpiece
You’re gettin raped by your label like catholic priests
On a whole it’s only half the beast
Repeatin on my words like Freaky Tah did after Cheeks
If you don’t like me you don’t have to speak
I’m killin niggas with one eye open and half asleep
You uninspired, in MA and tired
What you doin I did a year before the LA riots
Made the city unbiased, now it’s shows and flyers
I claim home but play out of state like the New York Giants
Refuse to spread violence like tyrants
In third world countries, stay with trees like monkeys
Don’t be fooled by the Boston accents
We talk with wordss and we talk with actions
Not New York, Dirty South, West Coast or Midwest
Cause Boston’s where the kid rest

Masta Ace, “Aknowledge”

Yo, yeah I heard of the Boogiemann when I was a youth, scary
And I found out that he was as fake as a tooth-fairy
Since my last mission this nigga’s been ass-kissing
I took a minute, I gave your single a fast listen
Tell me this, no pot to piss in? How you dissin’
You group holmes are about to report that you missing
And I don’t know who was worse, the track or the verse
I’ma get to your producer, but I’m smacking you first
See I couldn’t even find one nigga that heard of you
I did find a few cats that wanted to murder you
But I told ‘em “Chill”, I let ‘em know you was my son
And I promise I can pay support to you twenty-one
Consider me the clothes on your back and a warm meal
Who knows, this might just get you a deal
And the day that your album go on sale for the first hour
Just remember like Nas nigga, +I Gave You Power+
I figured I give ya some help, cause you need lots
I make your producer change his name to Speed Nottz
Tell him I say “Fuck him!” for doing the tracks
Matter of fact, fuck Fat Beats, for doing the wax
I’ma diss you via e-mail and then through a fax
I’ma diss you by two-way, I ain’t gon’ never relax
I’ma diss you over fast, slow track or no track
If your shit wasn’t so wack, I dissed you to yo’ track
You that little fish that I catch and I throw back
And by the way, give 50 Cent his flow back
You that cat in the club that get hit with a bottle
Fuckin’ with me? You better off trying to hit lotto
And don’t answer back, this is hard shit to follow
And you can’t spit nigga, so you obviously must swollow, motherfucker..

ED O.G & PETE ROCK feat. MASTA ACE
“wishing”
MASTA ACE

Yeah, I wish the President would stop lyin’
Black babies would stop cryin’
And you brothers would stop dyin’
I wish the police would stop killin’
Politicans stop stealin’ and actin’ like they not dealin’
When they know they got bricks on the street
At the country club, fixin’ to eat
I can see ‘em now
I wish we’d get this shit figured out
And stop goin’ the trigger route
And actin’ all niggered out
On the block with the nine cocked
I wish we try and stop, stop pushin’ for the prime box
I wish we wasn’t so obsessed with death
Tell me is it cuz we blessed with less?
I don’t know really
I wish the world was safer, I’m scared to travel abroad
That’s why I travel with the Lord
I wish a cab would stop for me in the rain
I know you wanna call me insane
I’m a dreamerYeah, I wish the President would stop lyin’
Black babies would stop cryin’
And you brothers would stop dyin’
I wish the police would stop killin’
Politicans stop stealin’ and actin’ like they not dealin’
When they know they got bricks on the street
At the country club, fixin’ to eat
I can see ‘em now
I wish we’d get this shit figured out
And stop goin’ the trigger route
And actin’ all niggered out
On the block with the nine cocked
I wish we try and stop, stop pushin’ for the prime box
I wish we wasn’t so obsessed with death
Tell me is it cuz we blessed with less?
I don’t know really
I wish the world was safer, I’m scared to travel abroad
That’s why I travel with the Lord
I wish a cab would stop for me in the rain
I know you wanna call me insane
I’m a dreame

MARCO POLO feat. MASTA ACE
“nostalgia”

People in the audience, Masta Ace the name
I write rhymes and insert them inside your vein
They run through your bloodstream, get inside your brain
Cause I first put my name up inside the train
My mic control has been unprecendented
And you wrong if you thought you was was the best that did it
See I just started messing with it, I been married to the game since ’88
You just commited
The entire fate of the whole Empire States
into hands of a man that’s here to inspire hate
Heed for the state of the music
and all these other cats looking for another way to abuse it
I wake you up like a gun in the face
I’m just here to let you know who’s like running the place
And everywhere that I preform and do a show
As long as you know

THE PROBLEMADDICTS feat. MASTA ACE
“hurting”

Masta Ace, Problemaddicts.
It hurts me to see the game in such chaos
If rap can’t find it’s way it’s gon’ stay lost
Radio dj’s wait around for the payoff
Play this song on they day off, it’s so funny
That’s the reason my car-radio stay off
My career’s now in the playoffs, I must win!
It hurts me to watch the BET Awards
I don’t understand the applause, what you clappin for?
And then I ask myself what you rappin’ for?
As soon as I figure it out I’ll get back to ya’ll
It hurts to know after all this time
I can still write a flawless rhyme but it don’t matter
You gon’ hear me on that 9 ta 1 spot
Spittin’ raps sweet like gumdrops
I rap about crack sales & gunshots
so all of ya’ll cumquats get ya sunblock – the sun’s hot

MASTA ACE
“top ten list”

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4
3, 2, 1 reasons you’ll never be this raw
My crew is representing for BK, don’t play
Or you might have to get Crime Watch around your way
Cause Brooklyn keep on taking it, still from way back
Say black, trying to get that fortune like Sajak
There must be at least twenty reasons you can’t win and
In this rap game you’re hopeless, here’s a top ten:
10′s very simple and plain, it’s petty crime
It’s only ’94 when you wrote your first rhyme
And now you think you got more Skil than power tools
But never could your feet fit up in our shoes
You only got one delivery
One-dimetional rappers is dead as chivalry
Don’t get your spot blown up, block sewn up
I lift MC’s to tone up, rip your zone up
I got more flavors than women’s douche
Make ends with Mexicans and rock dreads in Flatbush
9, you can’t see mine, can’t find mine
Can’t do mine, step to mine, when my crew find
A fronting-ass nigga, we get in this
You don’t want to get beat and boxed like Biz
You ain’t wild cause you run with wild kids
Now the chorus is gonna tell you what 8 and 7 is

“At 8 you’re a sucker, at 7 a motherfucker”

MASTA ACE
“beautiful”

Yeah, this is brand new Uptown still in the box
This is the Yankees, 10-nothin’, killin’ the Sox
This ain’t huggin’ the block wit’ a gat in ya hand
This is ??? on the Catamaran (that’s right)
With the sun beamin’ down while you sat in the sand
I feel like I’m more than a cat wit’ a plan
This feels like it’s more than a flash in the pan
This is milk in the cup and cash in ya hand
This is a warm coat on the coldest night
That’s why I stole this mic, y’all don’t hold this right (nope)
First in a class of many
This is a bottle of Jack and a glass of Henny (that’s right)
Now drink it up ’til there ain’t nothin’ left in it
I’m reppin’ it, BK, that’s a definite
There’s more of these amazing rhymes
A song like this in these days and times is beautiful

CUNNINLYNGUISTS feat. MASTA ACE
“seasons”

As we spring back to the past, it was all happening fast
We glorified coke and smoking crack in a glass
When b-boys danced to the latest jam
You could say this man was the greatest fan
When shoelaces were fat, and all the rapper’s faces were black
And light-brown, a box with the right sound was all you needed
When it blast…they must move
You just proved you’re hard like L in Krush Groove
And songs started to drop – Ain’t nobody start at the top
Before Preme (DJ Premier) learned the art of the chop
This is way before SP’s…and MPC’s
And long before CD’s and MP3′s
The game started to bloom and blossom
And masters ready for the cermony, like a groom in costume
Growth from the rain of the previous years
I took notes from what I heard through these devious ears

MASTA ACE feat. STRICK
“unfriendly game”

I’m about to take this beat, and teach you ’bout the agony of defeat
in this football game in the street
And no it ain’t two hand touch, it’s rough tackle
When niggas ball on your block, and they buss at you
The fields’ fill of players, and they all tryin’ to score
The whole team sits on the bench in the down pour
‘Cause no matter the weather, the game don’t stop
Competin with other teams, that reign on top
Your offense gotta be cats with no conscious
No nonsense niggas, with no options
That know how to carry that rock
make the hand-off, and run off the block
It’s hard to get first down, when your new in this rough town
You sell a pound its a TOUCHDOWN!
And niggas see the pigskin? They blast cops
Some federal agents dressed as mascots
Niggas hold weight, but it’s not for liftin’
The only white lines is the ones niggas sniffin’
I know it sounds a bit different, the only quarter is a quarter key
if that ain’t a penalty, it oughta be
And the concession stand is so sick
Servin’ you the cat, rat and dog on a stick
But if you ask why somebody got slain
Yo, it’s just an unfriendly game

MASTA ACE
“revelations”

At times I don’t know who I be
And when I look in the mirror its like I don’t know who I see
Am I even moving at all?
Cuz I swear I can’t tell if my life is improving at all
Every time I got a pen in my hand
I forget every time before that one has been in my hand
And I write for the moment, get it tight how I want it
Get the right lawyer on it cuz I might wanna own it
I tussle and I fight, I hustle and I write
I struggle every night with every muscle in my mic
I’m in this rap race trying to eat the cheese
But y’all don’t know my name like Alicia Keys
My face ain’t familiar, neither is my music
If shit don’t soon change I be the one to lose it
I drink a little liquor tryin’ to heal my nerves
Cuz y’all don’t listen here and feel my words
But something’s wrong with y’all, ain’t nuttin’ wrong with me
And happy in my life is what I long to be
And happy in my life is what I’m gonna be
What you see in me is what I was born to be
From the day that my moms first birthed a child
She didn’t need the world to make it worth the while
So I don’t need no magazine to reach the pinnacle
Screw a review and you can eat the interview
Cuz that’s what y’all seem to tend to do
Them cats you cover all seem identical
Through it all I weave like the park was here
And shine underground cuz it’s darkest there