The Rapper H - Mr. Saturday lyrics

[Intro] My name is H man, go scream it out GOOOOO My name is H man, go scream it out GOOOOO My name is H man, go scream it out GOOOOO And the beat drops like this! [Verse 1] Chillen on the scene, you can call me Mr. Saturday My snap is back, I care to say, I don't remember yesterday Hey, but appearance is transparent Appearance so f**ing fresh, that the produce couldn't stand it Fans will soon demand the man, H has got a masterplan Tickin turning round the clock, moving like a grain in sand Ya, all the work will be rewarded Effect, respect, we must protect the sound that we imported Sunny day, a Saturday, haze to blaze we float away Make a hit to break the top, surviving till I find the way To pay, to slay, to make a grade, to rocking it on center stage Life is like my currency; spend it till I have to pay Straight chillen, more evil than an arch villain More insane, than evil Kaneivel clearing tall buildings I made the motion G, for you to notice me Freshman year swag when I started to spit my frees [Hook] My name is H man, go scream it out GOOOOO My name is H man, go scream it out GOOOOO My name is H man, go scream it out My name is H man, and this rap is what I'm all about My name is H man, go scream it out GOOOOO My name is H man, go scream it out GOOOOO My name is H man, you can scream it out And if its Saturday, you know the crew is going out [Verse 2] Talk about my origins, I'm made out of necessity Going hard for Ithaca, I'll do it till the d**h of me Stepping to an enemy, ask if they remember me The second they remember me, I take away their memory Mix it in with Hennessy, chicken finger tenderly Tend to be, I tend to be way fresher than you'll ever be You just an a**hole, master of proctology Feel the sound then pound it down, practice gynecology You haters make believe, more like scientology My mission is impossible, Tom Cruise couldn't follow me Straight shots of cuevo, blunts to the neck Rager in the circles, with a buzz I come correct This sh** is getting crazy, what the f** did I get into? A couple homies saying, there's some ganj for us to burn through On the journey to top, the illest we stay spittin Saturday a fatty free, you know its never written SO [Hook] [Verse 3] Saturday night, pa** me the light I'm already high, just pa** me the mic I'm kinda hungry too, from this beat I'll take a bite And my cipher is complete, thanks in part to my Nikes We just a bunch of kids, chillen in our own way I'm-H-but-you-can call me Mr. Saturday Ya Ya Ya Ya Ya Ya Ya Ya And it goes like this [Hook]