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Artist: Rittz f/ Krizz Kaliko, Tech N9ne
Album:  Top of the Line
Song:   The Formula
Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com 

[Intro: Rittz]
Yeah... nobody fuckin with us
Rittz up in this bitch, when I spit I'm a warrior
Still got that Crown Royal in my cup, 'bout to pour it up
Biggest independent in the game, if you lame we're ignorin ya
Every time I get with Tech on a track it's historical
You better warn these hoes, I said

[Chorus: Rittz]
Watch out for your spot, here I come, I'm warning ya (warning ya...)
They said that I'm hot, really I was just warmin up (warmin up...)
Haters wanna see me flop, I'm out-performin 'em (performin 'em...)
Everywhere we go people point at us, they wanna join us cause we makin noise
We was born with the formula (formula, formula...)

[Interlude: Rittz]
Strange Music got the formula (formula, formula...)
Tech Nina got the formula (formula, formula...)
White Jesus got the formula, people wanna point at us
They wanna join us cause we makin noise, we was born with the formula

[Rittz]
From Atlanta to the MO
From the second that I connected with Tech I set the precedence
Killin a beat for Seven's effortless, rappers stressin, S.O.S.
So who would do or you know comin neck and neck with us?
+Nobody+, I just resurrected Keith Sweat for the heck of it
Sometimes I hate my aggression
It gets the best of me like I was possessed and I need an exorcism
'til they hear me, I keep rushin up the field like Emmitt Smith
Cocky like a boxing champ
Do excuse me cause my mind is kinda like a lava lamp, +Savage+ like I'm Macho Man
Go induce a logo on the side of my Versace lens
Thinkin like I should be singin in a Mariachi band
Hola, que pasa guey? You should really watch the way
you steppin to me, fuck around and now you lost a leg
And now you look like Drake in his "Degrassi" days
Crippled, +Lame As Fuck+ and it ain't tough for me to spot a rotten egg
Had to squash you, homie I'm a giant, I'm colossal
You a cartoon drawing muh'fucker, I'm Picasso
I just need a Xannie bar, a couple shots inside my nostril
When I'm Michael comin harder than Lamar inside a brothel
Fuck a rapper, I would rather be compared to Aristotle
Where the bottle? Tech be mixin up the Caribou, where the Lou?
Pussy frontin with a gun they scared of you, scared of who?
Somebody better go and let 'em know that what they better do is

[Chorus]

[Interlude]

[Tech N9ne]
Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop, off at the mouth
How I do it so fluid, spew it, never soft as a mouse
Sick as sewage, I grew it too, it's coolest talk at the house
Missou' is the truest, you is foolish, flossin about
Bickin it back I'm bein a better one, somethin better was never done
If you wanna win this cheddar run you really better go get a gun
Yes I'm packin the potion that's never lackin promotion
Have you stackin and toastin cause now you rappin and grossin
People set in they sin, 'bout the bread I'm makin
That I made and never gave it, yo where the heck has they been?
Said the label ain't charitable, gonna be checkin they chin
The second they grin you really wanna step and say when
But I'm in Monaco, on a boat, puffin that chronicle
Dishonorable when they hate the Snake and Bat logo upon the coat
So if they wanna mope and leave us you can bet I'ma vote
Gassin like Conoco and killin 'em off is comical
You should probably think about it 'fore you get up and you doubt it
'bout the pen game, definitely insane
I will become the in thing, music will then change
Take your family and friends brain, now they within Strange
The formula, Rittz got it to a T
That's why we gettin the sound spread around now
With Tecca Nina right beside 'em
you know it be goin down-diggy down-diggy down down

[Chorus]

[Krizz Kaliko]
Yes sir
Kali put the rocket in the pocket and the feet up on the dresser
I eff her
+So Dope+ she wanna off the God, I'm guessin I'ma bless her
Jonny and Donnie, we get money, no Illuminati
We show at the party, you feel it, like it let us in ya body
Oddity, how did he make 'em a commodity? (OK!)
Hardly handle the bustin, it's a part of me (OK!)
I feel like we're pickin on other rappers and labels
They ain't sittin at the table with us, able as us
Maybe they division is cause they lackin in paper and we pay bills
What happened to some cray deals?
Snake and the Bat, we lackin on nuttin, we'd be gauge strapped
Sayin that rap it ain't 'bout nothin, they be frontin frontin
Takin 'em back to puttin paper in people's hands
So fecal on evil people, I'm makin all the people dance
I know there'll be a lot of hand grabbin and man baggin
Even if they pants saggin they be damn faggots
I'ma stay in creased khakis with a tan jacket
They can stand back cause Sam goin HAM sandwich
Bringin the same same mainstream game to the Strange team game
cause the people really boring ya (OK!)
When we chop it's kinda hard to understand
We be - speakin like a foreigner, maybe it's the formula

[Chorus]