[Kool Keith]
Yeah, what's up with all you stupid motherf**ers out there
Giving me that jive vibe and that jam jam, huh
Don't come back with gra** between your a**
Cause I'm out here to last and move on forward past
That's right, I gets deep up in that rectum and I checks them
I got a problem, n***as is wack and they cold front
Suburban areas, born and raised with no blunt
Never had a gun to run, pump in a shootout
Always went to church with mom and wore a suit out
Who doubt, can it be hard faking these gods
Yo Don, the kid down the block, he's writing your style
Kicking your style, flaunting your style, jocking your style
Did you see him at the Apollo and
Following, swallowing s**m and
Then throw up, blow up, then pick a ho up
I never need to s** a dick for a deal
I never need a car to pull a fly b**h
I leave you standing like an S1-W
Cold and freezing with your a**hole hangin'
Coughing, sneezing, begging, pleasing
MC's smell like fish, that's a reason
Oh you cut your hair bald?
Hey yeah yeah yeah
A lot of you made ya bills with wack sk**s
Now you're selling your a**hole dreams on Hollywood Hills
Like a shark would bite, s** my deals with gills
Cause you're no frills, taking feminine pills reel to reel
My co*k you feel, f** that sh**
Your girl is wet as a seal
You can't front man, act like a stunt man
Fool all the girls, cause your lover is one man
I know the girls and girls that lick girls
But it's hard to breathe with your bullsh** gheri curls
Don't try to step to the X with that ill sh**
I'm not P.M. Dawn, crazy man with real sh**
Don't try to play me cause you gotta do shows, hoes
Wipe that sh** out your nose
[Percee-P]
In '88 it was all about an ill flow
Lyrcial goodies, not a hoodie and a steel toe
Talking bout you wrecking parties, stretching hotties
Catching bodies, then let me see you step to Gotti
I stunned you with sk**s, megatons of it
f** the guns and sh**, I'll beat anyone you get
I cut you off like a sharp machete blade
Swear to God, the only card you be pulling is Medicaid
Joke to me, broke MC with a gold hit
Wrecking, checking say better rhymes on my own sh**
I got a deal corruption and come up with
But n***as like you just s** dick
Like cattle, punk rappers I rounds up
Yo chief, I turns your f**ing beef into ground chuck
You're pulling b**hes? Nope, not on my block
n***a, the only hoes you can get is from my Glock
Boom boom boom boom
[Kool Keith]
Yo Don, punch the f** in, you're late
[Godfather Don]
Body bag 'em, I sting 'em with lyrical Don be hangin up
n***as that figure we're the jiggers with fake triggers
Never underestimate, of the best will take
And the rest of the state of MC's make them bless the greatest
Of all top minds, align refine
To an exaggerated potency of a Glock nine
I rock mine with top rhymes in alotta time
To weaker brothers, and others who debate how I got mine
I rock on beat off beat, toss meat
Where's that sk**, punk? You lost me
Rehearse first curse cause we heard church worse
And facilitate rehabilitate its message and purposes
Blood splatter, I'm mad as a mad hatter
Rappers stagger badder rappers at a distance for instance
Rappers get deals after kicking nil
I'm checking sk** lacks finesse and thrill on my Texas bill
First blood on my verse drug so leave nubs for hands
My Tims land like Van Damme to Sam
Man that's packing dust, the dust with a lust to bust
Because of us you want to get back into lyrical thrust
But the mic you hold is overshown
Or should I spit out of my lung on my tongue I brought a Trojan
Now I'm a disperse the verse and peace to Percee
And Keith the Earth decrease when I drop a piece