Neva B4

Echō Unltd. ft. Problemz - “Neva B4”
[Emcee(s): Problemz]
[Producer(s): SOP (Smoked Out Productions) {Original Instrumental from SOP (Smoked Out Productions) - “Styles”}]

[Verse 1: Problemz]
Ayyo, well, it be no
Other than that nigga that got you screaming, “Why, oh why?!?” When I
Spark the chocolate thai, them batty bwoy gwan die
Coming directly from Brooknam, Flatbush to be specific, ready to
Rip this like confetti, then I be jetty like Andretti with
The quickness. That nigga named Problemz handle his business, possess
More gifts than Saint Nicholas (When?) on Christmas
The lyrical techniques that I display are marvelous, and I’m not that
Nigga from 7UP with the bald head. I be the novelist
The rhymer (Rhymer) bench-pressing rappers and mad drama, making
‘Em pause like a comma when I register my armor
Remember me? I be the number one Problem of the industry
Stomping wack emcees with my Timberlands like centipedes
So play the background like an extra while I flex the
Obese lyrical styles that make your wifey wanna get next ta
The nigga you fear, kicking new “Flavors In Ya Ear” ‘cause I can
Get down like Craig Mack and cut your ass up like Premier
With razor-sharp lyrics similar to spirits ‘cause they get in ya
Like Keith Murray, possess mad flavor like curry, throwing
Flurries like a blizzard. What is it? Niggas can’t handle this
I’m nothing but Problemz, downright rugged and scandalous
Originally from Crown Heights, but now I dwell in Flatbush
On-point like a cactus, I bust raps like I’m at target practice
Leaving permanent slugs up in your cerebellum (Oh!)
I meant to tell you to tell him before I split his melon—stop selling him
Dreams (Dreams), talking about tough shit, trying to look mean on
The TV screen, but he’ll get ruptured like a spleen, that bitch-ass
Nigga. He should have known better to fuck with SOP, especially
The P-R-O-B-L-E-M-Z ‘cause that’s me

[Hook: Problemz]
Never before in this century has there been an emcee
Or should I say this industry?—that can comprehend with me
Never before in this century has there been an emcee
Or should I say this industry?—that can comprehend with me

[Verse 2: Problemz]
It’s 1995, but I get Hotter than 97 whenever
I spark up an L and start to yell like the reverend and be
Screaming on niggas, catching the Holy Ghost and the whole nine
Revoking their emcee licenses and locking ‘em down like po-9
I possess the lyrical powers that make you stop, look, and listen
If rap was a religion, I’d be preaching Buddhism
Sparking lethal with my people, studying lessons while
Conniving emcees who commit sins count their blessings
My thoughts be deeper than the scriptures in the Quran, my
Delivery be explosive like firearms in Brooknam
Never before in this century has there been an emcee
Or should I say this industry?—that can comprehend with me
And that’s the reason they call me Problemz. It’s harder than granite
To understand it—therefore, niggas can’t solve him
My flow (Flow) can be best described (Described) as slippery (Slippery)
But my delivery be agonizing (Ha!) like misery
I rhyme excessively and endlessly (Why?) ‘cause I’m sentenced
To a life of rap like convicts in the penitentiary (What?!?)

[Hook: Problemz]
Never before in this century has there been an emcee
Or should I say this industry?—that can comprehend with me
Never before in this century has there been an emcee
Or should I say this industry?—that can comprehend with me