(thug) I told you this f**in guy man
Yo man, yo B, this is my f**in block, get the f** off
(Keith) Shut the fk up
You never had a f**in green card in your f**in life
You don't any means to make f**in money
(thug) What? What the f** you talkin bout mayn?
(Keith) You f**in stupid, plantella Adidas motherf**er
(thug) Saturday Night Live, John Travolta a** motherf**er
(Keith) s** my dick
(thug) You f**in spaghetti and meatball eatin motherf**er
(Keith) You don't have any f**in knowledge
(thug) f** you man, conio man, s** my dick man
(Keith) Little Italy ay, you don't know about the.. real estate man
(thug) f** you man, what the f** you wanna do mayn?
(thug) You wanna do somethin mayn? You wanna do somethin mayn?
(thug) Take this mayn (*POP*) take this mayn (*POP*)
(thug) Take this mayn (*POP POP*) dead now!
(Tim Dog)
Here we go with some new sh**, f** the bullsh**
Bronx n***az rule sh**, cause we always pull quick, what?
Motherf**er back up, you know wha**up
Put two in your gut, POP POP what, now shut 'em up
Mad n***az wanna have this, murderous status
I'm known as the motherf**in rhymin apparatus
The fattest, MC of the era, cause terror
Could n***az f** with this? Never, but however
Many foes try to apprehend, they can't comprehend
Cause when they step to me they don't win
I bend, break MC's who fake the funk
Leavin wack rappers in the back of my truck
Then eat some rat poison and I drink some ammonia
Came out bein that gastric felonious
serial k**er, that you know, as Kujo
f** around with Dog and get slammed like a sumo
"Waitin to Exhale" like Whitney, you can't get wit me
I wanna see that n***a from Uptown, who bit me
Bitin, never writin, that's not excitin
I'm invitin, all y'all s**ers who like fightin
So come on, BRING IT ON, bring your weapon
No it's not rainin but you still gettin wettened
Smash your f**in a** like a Savage, I'm Randy
n***az don't want no beef cause I keep the tec handy
Shoot you from your head to your toe
You have so many holes in your sh** it spells act like you know
(unknown female MC)
Well I thought you knew motherf**ers..
Now take a second while I reveal myself into the industry
By smokin lyrical chokin teacher provokin MC
Clear the way for me, unique, delete the weak
As I defeat the claim to be sweet, by keepin it street
Lazy poet and I don't got to have them tactics to turn fake rappers
and crack addicts, tell the weak hit from my bomb sh**
Ooooh! Damn, no stress or contest, the impossible
I stand on top of them, no doubt about it, I'm unstoppable
Got a train of focus, e'ry track I smoke this
Cannabis is nice, six I'm causin a ruckus
You can't f** with us, known for keepin it true
Not fakin the funk like bustaz, so what you gonna do?
I address, I'm better than fresh
Mo' potent than stress, now try to test, n***a!
(Kool Keith)
Yeah f** y'all motherf**ers who need y'all whole album
to prove you got sk**s, s** this
I'm makin rappers load they apples pack up, move they wagons
My style like Bruce Lee, MC's walkin into the +Dragon+
My bald head super sharp, I walk like Telly Savales
n***az on a tightrope, they style is off balance
Hyper mental like Larry Davis on the instrumental
Rappers actin poodle, but I'ma drop the kennel
No threats; don't sleep on me you slept on Bernard Goetz
With a Berkowitz twist, your projects heard of this
My unique style retarded, kids smell the piss
With hand grenades I cut your rectum out with razor blades
Emergency please, gorillas bleedin through they knees
My style werewolf - AOWWWWWWWWWW!
I howl on your elevator, open your door, see you late
I drop sticks of dynamite, open your mailbox
Don't look for guns, I paid some crackheads for yo' glocks
Your style berback(?), lion tiger a**crack
No need to worry low prices call me Crazy Eddie
I put the head to sleep and send that brain to Betty
I'm outtie.. five thousand eight