john cena

i luv diz dude i think hez hot hez fine && sexii && i luv hez songz here they r

herez him rap battlein

www.youtube.com/watch?v=tLzgC0NL11k

www.youtube.com/watch?v=Szou7F6mYQ0&feature=related

"Don’t Fuck With Us"

[John Cena]
We keep it hoppin like the cars with the shocks
We spittin heat on your block
We new to the game, but runnin the spot
Numbin your knot, with basslines that’ll make ya neck break
This rook’ll take your queen and put ya king in checkmate
Open your mind without makin ya meditate
We real champs; y’all just featherweight
Time to get it straight, I push your wig back
Crew loaded up with extra bread like a Big Mac
Beefin with us? We’re leavin you face down
Stompin bitch rappers like I’m straight outta A-Town
Runnin the playground like it was a track meet
Shoes on the whip that be bigger than Shaq’s feet
We into big things, bank account’s overgrown
All types of cheese – swiss, cheddar, provolone
Guaranteed to burn wax like candles
Track hittin hard to the head like shots of Jack Daniels

[Chorus 2X: John Cena]
Y’all, bitch, crews, don’t wanna fuck with us
Y’all bound, to, lose, another one bites the dust

[Tha Trademarc]
It’s Trademarc the truth, laid back, aloof
I’m God, as if you needed some proof
You ain’t hard I can see it on you, I need a roof
Fuck a droptop, crop if I’m creepin on you
Click-clack nickelback knickknacks if you got heaters on you
Spittin back live rounders, with five pounders
If we meetin on two, I put a beatin on you
Your sound’s tired buddy, that’s why I’m sleepin on you
We lean back in the ride, with cream stackin the rawhide
The sound of God slide with a raw vibe
Straight military camel clothes ash brown boots
So sick, I’ve been handlin flows, since enamel was gold tooth
And branded by low
You cold fuck like eskimo hoes at 7 below
You slow, you be the last to think
My hands seen more fuckin dirt than bathroom sinks

[Chorus]

[John Cena]
I got punks, dumps and switches, dump chumpses bitches
We feed you to the sharks, you can sleep with the fishes
Clean you like dishes but I ain’t no busboy
You ain’t family, you ain’t earnin my trust boy
Seen too many bitches that’ll double cross ya
We bring more drama than the Laker roster
Get the click pissed, ain’t nobody can save ya
Throw heat without lookin like Fernando Valenzuela

[Tha Trademarc]
Marc Predka’s the name, the rest of you lame
I’m ego drivin, seen with different women, every size and frame
I refine my game by fuckin famous bitches
But it’s all the same, it’s just ex to the next
for sex or brain, misses or Mrs.
Married or not, my game don’t stop
It’s cars bars bonds and stocks you ain’t see my flow
Y’all are small-time suckers like a knee-high hoe

[Chorus]

"Bad, Bad Man"

[John Cena]
Aww, you done did it now
Chaos you shoulda put this one in the vault man!
They not ready – they don’t know what’s comin man!
Oh we gonna drop this on ’em right here
Y’all ain’t ready for this, Y’ALL AIN’T READY FOR NONE OF THIS!

Your boy’s a bad man, and we invadin the streets
Make unclever rappers scurred, they be droppin the heat
Shocked the world, now I’m standin alone
I flip fools like them clamshell cellular phones
You can’t help but nod your head to the track
Fuck the watered down rap, we be takin it back
Give it to me straight – ain’t no chasin it
Check yourself in the mirror – ain’t no facin it
Cause you, playin the role and you plannin to fold
This the masterplan, we got the planet on hold
We all over the streets like your favorite sneaker
Breakin up your sound like a drive-through speaker
Everything that I be spittin is strong
After I rock, fast forward through the rest of the song
We the monkeywrench, that’s gonna ruin your plan
And don’t fuck with John Cena – I’m a BAD, BAD MAN

[Chorus 2X: Bumpy Knuckles]
With the mic in my hands I’m a bad man
Even in a fight with the hands I’m a bad man
Livin in the streets all my life I’m a bad man
I’m a bad man, I’m a bad man

[Tha Trademarc]
We devils – rockin ambient levels
We set loose among hot tunes to instrumentals
And cats got one-liners, I drop several
And I think it’s funny you choose, losin progress
or runnin in place; we makin moves, and y’all settle
I rip rappers and take responsibility
for makin future hall-of-famers look third rate
Y’all are lost for words like conversation on your worst first date
and ride beats, creep through side streets
Looseleaf notepads that’s where rhymes leak
Punchlines – man, don’t even beg
I got knee-slappin tracks, y’all brusin your leg
You a rhyme writer – funny man, that’s a joke
You ain’t worthy of bein my secretary man that’s a quote
I flood tracks like cracks in boats
And pussy rappers choked up with they own lines in they throat

[Chorus]

[Bumpy Knuckles a.k.a. Freddie Foxxx]
TURN UP THE MICROPHONE and feed me I’m a beast
MC’s and they beats is what I eat, 16 I’ll leave you in the street
My rhymes are sicker than gangrene in both feet
It’s spreadin up the leg, and headed for the head
Your rhymes are whack your style is proof that the brain corrosion
is fuckin with your chosen flows, I’m nice with mics
My hands’ll break your nose like Mikey Tyson
Fightin in his prime, one rhyme
And I shake up the room one time, BOOM! To the jaw
Your face is a coat type raw
And the blood and snot they mix, jelly on the floor
My love is cop them bricks, belly on the floor
I rob you, you soft and you really ain’t a problem
I solve you, 357 long nose revolve you
Acid in your face, bad look, dissolve you
I’m a bad, bad man

Yeah, check it out
It’s Bumpy Knuckles baby
And I want you to say hello to the BAD, BAD, MAN – C’MON!

[Chorus]

"Basic Thugonomics"

"So… you think you’re untouchable?"

[Chorus: John Cena – scratched by DJ Chaos]
Word life! This is basic thugonomics
This is ba-basic thugomoics
Word life! *scratching*
"I’m untouchable, but I’m forcin you to feel me" – Esoteric
Word life! This is bas-*scratch*
Basic thugo-*scratch*-thugo-*scratch*-thugonomics
Word life! *scratching*
"I’m untouchable, but I’m forcin you to feel me" – Esoteric

[Verse One: John Cena]
Whether fightin, or spittin, my discipline is unforgiven
Got you backin up, in a defensive position
An ass-kickin anthem, heavyweight or bantam
Holdin camps for ransom, the microphone phantom
Teams hit the floor, this the new fight joint
Like a broken needle kid, you missin the point!
We dominate your conference with offense that’s no nonsense
My theme song hits, get your reinforcements!
We strike quick with hard kicks, duckin ice picks
Bare-knuckle men through fight pits, beat you lifeless
Never survive this! Get forget like Alzheimer’s
Two-face rappers, walk away with four shiners
The raw rhymer, turnin legends to old-timers
My incisor’s like a viper, bitin through your one-liners!
New Deadman Inc. – and we about to make you famous
Takin over Earth and still kickin in Uranus!

[Chorus]

[Verse Two: Esoteric]
You ain’t advanced enough to process potential phonetical concepts
The objects are foreign, like blot tests
Sponsored sex, a complex, regardless of your finesse
or your fitness, it’s the condition of business
Your lame vision of a underground, physical image
You’re underneath to undermine your whole, typical image
With the precision of percentages, and the collision of sedatives
Poetry, beats, and mics – we untouchable
like righteous sluts with no crevices
Streets unite, we rock right over dumber beats
Yo’ cats couldn’t come this hot if they jerked off in the summer heat
Forget two takes, kill y’all birds the first time
Yo’ best shit ain’t, worthy of my filler or worst rhymes
I’m better than nice, check the veteran stripes
Leave you beside yourself with fear, I kill you, and bury you twice
Despite the cover of night, trackin’ your flight
Like guerilla warfare, where the grass is dense
Approachin me is a quick way to get referred to in the past tense
Dead that! When the light to mic is on
The crowd is dead like the intermission when you on the Titantron

[Chorus]

"Make It Loud"

[John Cena at a live show]
It’s the joint baby, GOTTA MAKE IT LOUD [crowd cheers]
SO LET ME HEAR SOME NOISE FROM THE CROWD [more cheering]

[Tazz] That’s noise!

[Chorus 2X: John Cena]
It’s the joint baby, gotta make it loud
Get the point yo you gotat make it loud
Everybody in the club make it loud
SO LET ME HEAR SOME NOISE FROM THE CROWD

[John Cena]
Yeah, yeah
We came to kick the door down, it’s time to hit the floor now
Yo… we got some shit in store now
So; clap your hands while we let the sax blow
Not quite Krispy Kreme, but we came to stack dough
We ain’t maxed yo, we just try and get this money right
Bills made of Spandex, I still keep my money tight
Never stoppin, all I see is the money like
the kid on the mic is too +Raw+ for your Monday night
If you got in free, or your fuckin cover’s paid
Bounce to this motherfucker like you was some Rubbermaid
This ain’t that Cristal sippin type shit
It’s that bottle breakin, startin riot type shit
So jump up and down ’til ya break the floor
Yo we keep it underground like a basement tour
East coast reppin, stretchin out to L.A.
Not double oh seven but we +Die Another Day+, what

[Chorus]

[Tha Trademarc]
I tear up any track, front to back
Like Roy Jones takin on fifty year-old cats
makin comebacks, where you at, cats spit soft shit
like whispers and gloves, I’m not hearin that
It’s all love maybe if you wanna rub baby
Anything but that, step back lady
Trademarc, John Cena, clubbin it up
We got Chaos on the one and two, cuttin it up
I’m all about laid back, don’t jock, I hate that
I see through haters games, don’t mistake that
I still got love if you buyin our shit
If you claim you hatin us, but you ridin our dicks
Everybody hear the name, Marc Predka
It’s gonna ring like an echo for years, I never left ya
All y’all raise your glass to this shit
Cause Trademarc’s the head of the class of misfits

[Chorus]

[John Cena]
We steal your top spot, and you not gettin your number back
Chop down competition like I was a lumberjack
Clear out the club floor, we keep ’em comin back
Tough to bring down like an overweight runningback
Yeah – and we blaze ’em baby
Trademarc, John Cena, we amazin baby
Yo we tear up any crew, leave a motherfucker worn
Y’all are just soft like some Cinemax porn

[Tha Trademarc]
I move a crowd like a bomb scare
Grab the mic when we hittin it right, if you want fear
Some say Trademarc, he ain’t all there
We old school like when Sonny, was on Cher
Take it back like a Richard Pyror 8-track
And grab a chunk of your change like a state tax
Man please, we want platinum plaques
I want cream, green, cheddar cheese, to grab in stacks

[Chorus]

[scratching Trademarc to fade]
"Chaos on the one and two, cuttin it up"
"That’s that shit!"

[crowd chanting] "Ce-na, Ce-na, Ce-na" [at the end]

"my time is now"

[Chorus: John Cena]
Your time is up, my time is now
You can’t see me, my time is now
It’s the franchise, boy I’m shinin now
You can’t see me, my time is now!

[John Cena]
In case you forgot or fell off I’m still hot – knock your shell off
My money stack fat plus I can’t turn the swell off
The franchise, doin big bid’ness, I live this
It’s automatic I win this – oh you hear those horns, you finished
A soldier, and I stay under you fightin
Plus I’m stormin on you chumps like I’m thunder and lightning
Ain’t no way you breakin me kid, I’m harder than nails
Plus I keep it on lock, like I’m part of the jail
I’m slaughterin stale, competition, I got the whole block wishin
they could run with my division but they gone fishin –
– with no bait, kid your boy hold weight
I got my soul straight, I brush your mouth like Colgate
In any weather I’m never better your boy’s so hot
you’ll never catch me in the next man’s sweater
If they hate, let ’em hate, I drop ya whole clan
Lay yo’ ass DOWN for the three second TAN

[Chorus]

[Tha Trademarc]
Yeah, uhh
It’s gon’ be what it’s gon’ be
Five pounds of courage buddy, bass tint pants with a gold T
Uhh – it’s a war dance and victory step
A raw stance is a gift, when you insist it’s my rep
John Cena, Trademarc, y’all are so-so
And talk about the bread you make but don’t know the recipe for dough though
Aimin guns in all your photos, that’s a no-no
When this pop, you’ll liplock, your big talk’s a blatant no-show
See what happens when the ice age melt
You see monetary status is not what matters, but it helps
I rock a timepiece by Benny if any
The same reason y’all could love me is the same reason y’all condemn me
A man’s measured by the way that he thinks
Not clothing lines, ice links, leather and minks
I spent 20 plus years seekin knowledge of self
So for now Marc Predka’s livin live for wealth