This the kind of...
This the kind of slappers that I used to dream about...
Peter Tosh.. Peter Tosh.. Peter TOSH..
n***a we back I be that bumba blood clot
Mozart now watch how we fart
Poisonous darts see when I start
I make 'em lick wood
Lock every hood, it's understood
Make 'em calm down, f** up the place
Black telling god, they wish that they could
Do what I do, them n***as wack
Donkey sh** rap
See when I come through, it's a wrap
Pull-up pull-up pull-up pull-up!