[Verse 1] Chicka, chicka, get down This is one of those songs, when people hearing this Will try to judge me, demoted from being a lyricist Thats why I put the MC before Hush, because I insist Of being in control of the mic, a specialist My nemesis, being myself is venomous Because sometimes a foot in ya mouth is dangerous Sharp on the edge in ways a razor is Slicing through any red-tape or plagarist Backhands to many for grand stand and win it When demands ask for bands of the bland man you dish it Infinite, all of my words with quickness Like a deck hand with a bad stomach, I see sickness Crazy like a kid with his hands slashed and slit it Till his parents have to come have his quack a** commited And any emcee that I can't stand, I'm sh**tin' on Any mother f**er that backstabs, forget it [Hook] If you ever hear my sound in the street, it goes - blow! Get down! So if you ever hear my sound in the street, it goes - blow! Get down! So if you ever hear my sound in the street, it goes - blow! Get down! So if you ever hear my sound in the street, it goes - blow! Get down! [Verse 2] Yo I'm a bad a** liutenant, who can't stand a gimmick The ones we all just like to laugh at and mimmick The ones we all know that just can't rap a bit it And I still suffer heat from a backlash of critics Wack a** with synical slaps that can split it And anybody saying my raps trashed is finished Whoever said that having a backpacks permitted Its just raps that you can't grasp or grip it I'll blast back on any one jacka** who give it Any nim-witted uppercla** a** that doesn't get it Understand, not every rap fans exquisit Or has to live it, every track thats explicit I must admit it, that fast cash will limit A vast cast of vivid emcees that really live it You couldn't blow up if you had gas and lit it When I blast fast cats hit the fast dash and split it [Hook] [Verse 3] I can't be f**ed with like broken dil*os And I spill flows, that beat you to d**h like steel toes Swift blows to any emcees that can't rhyme I'm so dope I'll cut ya, then snort your flatline Obscene writer, my team remains finer The main liner, feeding your veins a pain liver Chicks with dicks, or b**hes with no balls Or glisten to blow, big mouth cats with no paw I misplaced ya album right next to P.D I only bought his CD just to hear B.I.G I hold it down like tape on toupe's Put a condom on your tongue, and then f** what you say I move crowds like fights at rap shows And handicap foes who vow they can flow I'm after your soul, and after that your platinum Catch em' in the track with my gat, just to strap em' [Hook] x2