[Intro: Dee]
These fake a** n***as better recognize
Ya'll don't know about the squad
Yo, yo, yo
[Dee]
Ya'll n***as wanna get it poppin' off?
Son, I spit with the force like a 44 shot let off
Believe me, my automatic tongue don't jam, I never heard of this man
But I'm about to murder this man, a verbalist man
Equiped with metaphors, that spit that ill sh**
You and your click couldn't deal with me, uh
My murder click, me, G, Kwan and Face
Never hesitate to make sh** up like pool tape
You need a miracle f**ing with this Imperial n***a
That's mad lyrical from the physical to the spiritual
Sixteen bars of hell, on Dateline
Once the track split, I react and rape the ba**line
[Chorus: Q-Plex]
Yo, we spit one, clip one, hit one
You missed, son, send a kite to get done
As long as the clip run, we bound to make it stick, son
We done when the clip done, never run when the clip, done
[G-Note$]
Lay the smackdown on clowns, we can get down, however
You wanna do it, with guns, rhymes, beats
Yo, the stove taste better than your flow, pa
You sound like a b**h, your mic sk**s wear bras
Yeah, you lyrical, n***a, but that don't mean sh**
I rock street, it's nothing to make a hit song
You know how I do, I gets it on and popping
I know how you do, rocking thong thong thongs
I write like a beast, King Kong, kid
Me and my n***as spit verses back and forth like ping pong
Ring the f**ing alarm, it's fire in here
We evaporate all that bullsh** you spit
Go back to the lab, meditate, dig in the crates
You need to sample some James Brown, and f** with these sounds
You know how I do, it's G-Note$, the hottest n***a out
No doubt, it's nothing
[Chorus]
[Babyface Fensta]
I keep it thorough, rep my borough to the fullest
You ain't the illest or the realest
You ain't a k**a, you Inc a Murda
You think, your pen's explosive, you ain't ready for war
I give it to you Raw like WWF
You Stone Cold, like The Rock?
It doesn't matter, do you smell what's cooking?
Your a** is gra**, you just a preliminary bout
I'm the main event, your figures ain't major
You a c-minor, you all sound like little Jigga's
Since the d**h of Biggie, everybody jiggy
Wake up, smell the coffee, you commit suicide
For silver and tails of gold
My n***as want platinum plaques, f** that
I'mma sell out, I want all my products sold out
[Chorus 2X]