This the kind of... This the kind of slappers that I used to dream about... Peter Tosh.. Peter Tosh.. Peter TOSH.. n***a we back I be that bumba blood clot Mozart now watch how we fart Poisonous darts see when I start I make 'em lick wood Lock every hood, it's understood Make 'em calm down, f** up the place Black telling god, they wish that they could Do what I do, them n***as wack Donkey sh** rap See when I come through, it's a wrap Pull-up pull-up pull-up pull-up!