[Intro]
Yeah, yeah
f** all these n***as
You know what I'm talkin' about Wino
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Two minutes and twenty-one seconds of funk
And I ain't no punk
That's right, that's right
[Verse]
A tisket a tasket
That's all you ask it
Snap your cd and drop the pieces in your casket
Like little Jack Horna', I'm still bendin' cornas'
Buckin' shots on your block, I'm sippin' on Corona's
Uh, your McDonald had a farm wit' a six-fo on suicide
Sittin' in the barn wit' no alarm
Straight up collected it, cool and calm
Crowbar in my hand and my skeleton brick still works like a charm
Who's the rawest?
My sh** is flawless
Had to be pa**in' out bruises
Lacerations and broken jawses
Emcees wanna floss you better understand who's the boss
Before I do a Michael Jackson and "Cut your sh** off!"
Part of the penitentary still, penetratin' your grill
I keep on keepin' it right, while you keep on keepin' it real
I'll bring the treble and the ba** to delapatate your waist
Coolio's on the case, get yo ho out my face, fool
Lodi Dodi, I don't know karate, but I know ka-razor
And none of y'all can't fade me
I know you wanna try to play me
And busta's wanna playa hate me
I'm one of the dopest n***as out I
Guess that's why they hate me
Cause I slang hits like n***as slang cavi
I remain like khakis, I guess that's why they mad at me
On a record you might outgat me
But you can't outrap me
My sh** is fatta'
And yo sh** need a little bit mo batta'
Freestyle in unrestricted manner or method
Free funk text readily selected, so check it
Uh, dip diver, socializer, I've been rockin'
These motherf**in' microphones since nineteen seventy-niner
And by the time that this little nappy head n***a retire
I'ma be at the ripe ol' age of forty-eight or forty-niner
My sh** is wise, CPT M.C. for hire
My name ain't Rick James but I'll burn your a** with a fire
So, what's your desire baby love?
Is it hands wrapped around mics
Or fingers wrapped around triggas?
Eitha' way it go I'm dumpin' and I'm dippin'
Still tennis shoe pimpin', 40 Thevz in position
Fee-Fi-Fo-Fum, now n***a I'm a giant
And yo a** is like Jack
But yo magic beans is wack
Sk**s is what you lack
I'm like a Benz, you ain't even like Cadillac
You mo like a Regal
I'ma pit bull, and you's a Beagle
I'm set to strangle hangin' emcee's at all angles
As their legs start to dangle
Dance around everybody like Mr. Bo Jangles
Los Angeles, Compton, Long Beach, and Carson Hawthorne
Livin with the Watts
I'm sendin' out shout outs
I used to drink Ol' Gold
Now I just stroll
Straight to the X.O. section of my neighborhood liquor store
Huh, and you know what make me laugh, b**h?
Even your mama want my autograph, autograph, autograph
Autograph, autograph