[Intro]
You know it's ill
It's the B-I-Z Markie
With my man Chad Muska
Guaranteed to rock, like this
Like, like, like this
[Screams]
I'm the humdinger, the microphone singer
Super bell-ringer, here to bring ya
The rhyme technique-a, the ill funk freak-a
Coming right out of your speakers and never reaching the peak-a
Perfection direction, in any section
My style is kicking like Chinese Connection
Most Valuable Poet, thirteen years strong
The island of wrong is where I belong
Superb like Goldberg, iller than Godzilla
I scared Michael Jackson into writing a Thriller
The ginger ale sipper, the freestyle flipper
Never see me in a pair of Grand Union brown clippers
Funk, what you should pony, down when I was bony
One of the funkiest masters of ceremony
Jam, jam, jimmity jam
Let me, let me, let me, let me tell you who I am
[Hook]
New York, you don't stop
L.A., you can't stop
Midwest, you won't stop
Hey, that bodyrock
Gotta come all night long, well like my rap
Want to get down, I'll make your hands clap
Every time you see me I'll be doing my thing
I'm Hello Fried King with the disco flow
You know it's satisfaction guaranteed
If you're messing with me, you will bleed
Listen to me cause I'm the
Original B e-e-e-e-e
I, Z, M-A-R-K
When it comes after fries, they're like this is what I'll say
I'm like super duper dopin' open
Rock the microphone, you'll be scopin'
k**ing the most, coast-to-coast in ya
I wake up, eat cheese, eggs, and toast
Guaranteed to rock, I don't got no children
I just know that I've got to go
[Hook]
[Outro]