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[Intro: War, (Shyheim) & (MC Walker)
Yeah, one two
About to send 'em back to the lab
War got the L in his hand (Send the kids back)
54Th Regiment
Yeah
Send the kids back to the lab for mo' practice (Uh-huh)
So recognize when you feel it
Send the kids back to the lab for mo' practice (Uh-huh)
So recognize when you feel it
Send the kids back to the lab for mo' practice (Uh-huh)
So recognize when you feel it
Send the kids back to the lab for mo' practice (Uh-huh)
So recognize when you feel it
Bystanders better duck, somebody better call police
Another Heather B freestyle done hit the streets
Laced to the nines, my chrome-dipped rhymes
They go "Shy, they'll blind your next weak-ass line"
And aimed at your head is a infrared circle
Of sentences with messages that read, "Fuck you"
I chip tooths, knockin' them loots at one time
That's for all them hoes that don't write they own rhymes
Repeat after me, "Heather B, Heather B"
Lyrically, lyrically, got all these hoes shook
What? You think you can't get your title took?
You are not the type to even hold a mic
You rhyme, but I write, you fuss, but I fight
I am all the truth, and you are all the fuckin' hype
I don't like no fake-ass MCs
So any problems with that, you come see me
Send the kids back to the lab for mo' practice (Uh-huh)
So recognize when you feel it
Send the kids back to the lab for mo' practice (Uh-huh)
So recognize when you feel it
Send the kids back to the lab for mo' practice (Uh-huh)
So recognize when you feel it
Send the kids back to the lab for mo' practice (Uh-huh)
So recognize when you feel it
Now, you can find me in Brooklyn, but I'm a Jersey resident
The only sister stationed at the 54th Regiment
Heaven meant to send me, but I'm ghetto-sent
And I flips mad shit with the New York accent
Come at me if you can fuck up the other 53
And that wild nigga War got the heat
I'm under the driver's seat, I know he got a long gat
And I'd be a fool to tell you where the other toolie at
So to all y'all with weak lines and jammed nines
I see that you missed the point in my last rhyme
Take off your weak-ass frown, you ain't the man of your town
Yo, nigga, I meant you when I said, "Glock's down"
Don't ever force me to have to flaunt it
I'm sayin' if I ever grow a dick, you'll be on it
I'll twist you like a cap, split your back like a dutchie
If you touch me, you can't touch me even if your touch is Midas
I'm as versatile as any nigga playin' two sports
And all y'all brand new ideas already been my thoughts
Who wants the wrath of fifty niggas poundin' that ass?
I suggest you wave your flag and just call this shit quits
Send the kids back to the lab for mo' practice (Uh-huh)
So recognize when you feel it
Send the kids back to the lab for mo' practice (Uh-huh)
So recognize when you feel it
Send the kids back to the lab for mo' practice (Uh-huh)
So recognize when you feel it
Send the kids back to the lab for mo' practice (Uh-huh)
So recognize when you feel it
So recognize when you feel it
So recognize when you feel it
So recognize when you feel it
So recognize when you feel it
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