Ha, ha, ha, ha
Yo what up, its Essman Spectrogams, my man
Kon Artis, Obie Trice, Denaun Porter
DJ motherf**ing bu*ter, sh** happens
That's right, 2000-2001, D-Tweezy
[Kon Artis]
Knockout blows, mics get torn, out the frame without metronomes
n***as want money, we send they a** home
Without cab fare after my dick get blown
The sign says no smoking so we smoke
The bill come after we eat so we break out
Loudmouth at the lunatic house
With a bunch of Looney Tunes that'll go right in your mouth
We the reason for split wigs, blood puddles shot up dead
Baby momma with no daddys and 8 kids, criticize this
Ya'll all can drink elephant piss and eat sh**
Guess you didn't listen the first time
What am I supposed to do, keep wasting my talent on battle raps
f** that, I do this for Bugz
The only battling I do is when I'm shooting up clubs
DJ bu*ter, Obie Trice, sh** can happen, D-Twezzy
[Obie Trice]
Aye yo I spit through the music equipment
I talk sh** to your chicks like I was intestines son of a b**h
I lay ya flat like Charlie Batch the quarterback
Getting sacked by that lineman, we feeling this a**crack
O Trice the famed f*ggot I'm pa**ed that
I'm out for the a** cap literally
Bust a slug in your right cheek
From these verbal tethlon that motherf**ers speak
I run the blocks with a slew of freaks
That love jacking n***as to accumulate heat
Accommodate them b**hes with the seats
Strip ya car empty sit it on the street
I hope ya got ya policy back, no apoligy for that
DVD that was snatch, n***as catch wooden bats
Loose steel gats, juvenile thugs running up in ya flat
f**in with us, you need aspirin for the act
Its an outcold feeling in hearing ya fibula crack
Obie trice and Kon Artis the hardest
Regardless, flawless
That's why bu*ter brought us
bu*t ugly b**hes wanna record us
And be sugar mommas and take us off the corner
sh** happens