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Artist: The 49ers
Album:  State of the Art
Song:   Fort Knocks
Typed by:

Jas Mace

Competition gets defeated when I grab the mic and beat it
Calling Jesus take a seat like a paraplegic
You won't stand up put ya hand up to acknowledged
I rob 'um and roll up extra strength on you dickheads like condoms
Spot 'um standing there trying to be cute
But I'm gonna fuck up his whole shit like error 141 reboot
Get the lute and drop the phat rhymes
Always on time like sympty, simply don't tempt me
Or find your fucking ass clutching crutches
Drew got the dutches The Outfit, we bring the ruckus
Get cracked like a bass head, instead I'll turn your mugg red like Kool-Aid
I be the storm that rains on your parade
The masquerade is through, run for your crew and let's recite
I flip more words than Vanna White because me and mic are tight
Let's get it right, one thing I'm not is a hater player
But if you bring it to my face Jas Mace won't hesitate to slay ya
I be the, tri-state terror
I'll split your wig like a part and then depart with your heart
Back to the 49 where we write the rhymes that be hittin'
Getting rid of flappin' turning rappers into born again Christians
Wishing that you could be me
But you better study ophthalmology before you try seeing me


The fort knocks, for blocks and blocks it don't stop
A yo, it rocks and rocks and rocks
The 49 is the fort that got the suckers coming short
We get busy on the track and let 'um know where it's at


Who's next to flex and grab the mic to wreck
In full effect you guessed one of 49's best
Check one, check two like a compulsive shopper
Hang with the fattest show rockers and the tightest rhyme droppers
I can never slack on a track that's anti-wack
You're a sap, you're girl got you coming out the pocket like a quarterback
That's ain't my style, my style is the purest
Flip the script and make the hits pull files like a manicurist
Plus say riot and I'm in it, pro-black
Grab a 45 and cause 33 revolutions per minute
Hold records like a crate and static like dusty needles
But that was yesterday now I let it be like The Beatles
Anyone can make a sucker run from a gat
But I can grab a mic and make a brother run from my raps
You'll be analyzing and memorizing what you hear
You'll need a Q-tip to get the remnants of my wax out your ear
A rap ruler dropping 12 inches it's a cinch kid
Easy to flip it and get you open like hinges
Syringes could never be sharper on the track
I take my time like a watch thief and make you move your back
In fact, I'm busting raps that have the fans scoping
So wear a helmet, cause when I catch wreck I'm getting heads open
Design my own rhymes would have it no other way
I do my own thing and ignore what others say
You walk around the town with a posse that fronts
I didn't even curse ones still made you look like a dunce
Marchitect and Jas Mace makes sucker crews panic
Run frantic or get swallowed up like Atlantis