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My Cut's Correct (UTFO)

(This is far out) Drop it Yeah Dissin' all you Robidog deejays that suck And I ain't gotta call no names My name is Mixmaster, battle me if you're able But for now I'm just chillin' and yo, I stay stable One day I react and then it's slow like radiation 'Cause suckers bite my cuts, they keep tracin' Me, fraudulatin', then pretend to be the best I got hands like bombs and they inflict death My complexion is cream, my ego won't break And I don't get conceited to the point where my head inflates So if you want to battle me, don't get sloppy Cause when I start cuttin' yo, you better stop me (Wack DJ's, he cut the mess out of you) It's somethin' about my tactic that makes my scratch kick A lotta disc jockeys bluff but I react quick Stay nimble, win battles by landslides Can do a cut better than you with my hands tied Behind my back, so hold your breath in I'm expellin' a rhyme within a fraction of a second Jack of all trades, so label me a veteran You know my crew by the UTFO lettering My voice box interlocks on any intercom I only cut to build the biceps on my arm My name is Mixmaster, deejays be aware Because I treat my turntables like car ware And if you want to battle me from lack of respect Ts.. balls - my cut is correct The M-I-X has a quick reflex It's like a hologram picture, the plot on the set I'm not a misfit and yo my cuts get better Label me awesome, the critics all sever Me from a amateuristic opponent You want to battle me? Ha-ha, postpone it! You can't make what I innovate The indicator will break if you record me on tape And yo, I get with it, keep the needle on the pivot Leader of the Pack, this title I fit it Jack of all trades but cuttin' is my hobby So listen to the property, the structure and the body And if you want to battle me from lack of respect Ha balls, my cut is correct I can take a record apart, then put it back together I'm clever never, ever Lost to any cause, cause it's vital Practiced and rehearsed to keep this title I won't be categorized as mediocre Temper with your psyche and then provoke ya Runnin' off your mouth and talkin' crap to me Is like puttin' your dome between a guillotine It's been that way since block partyin' I mesmerize your mind, then work your body and No time for profilin' or ladi-dadi-in This was predetermined since kindergartian I'll put my twelve's in a museum So fools like you will pay to come see em And if you want to battle me from lack of respect Balls, baby, my cut is correct My cut is correct I guess I'm gonna have to just (Sign em up, s-s-sign em up) Yeah (Sign em up, sign em up, sign em up) (Sign em up, s-s-sign em up, sign em up) Sign em all up like children (Sign em up, s-s-sign em up Sign em up, sign em up, sign em up Sign em up, s-s-sign em up, sign em up) Yeah, Morse code scratch in effect UTFO style East Flatbush rock on!