[Verse: Jack Cracker]
Lyrical addict, need shots of methadone
Fixed up till microphones look like ice cream cones
To the bone have it cut cut close to the bone
Till they light enough to throw
What? What? What? What?
f** the bullsh**, you Jones like Indiana for the grammar
When I'm straight snapping like bull wicks blast off and shatter
Jack Cracker will subtract like a thousand line backers
So underground, half of my fans are cadavers
In desperation, I'll smoke the tree off your Timbs
When we're coming at you quicker than lager turns to piss
Hit the throttle
And these rappers sweat like beer bottles
When I run experiments in the lab, you grab the goggles
If you got the patience, I'm the weight you don't press without a spotter
You couldn't hurt the sun/Sun if I was Tom Gugliotta
Hit the spliff and cough
Verbal shots at your feet
Got you dancing on your toes like Mikhail Baryshnikov
Joshua Rockets Jack Cracker two heads attached to the same neck
Washed up MC's get the rain check