"Where's the intruder?" "Looks like he went to the tower" [Trunks:] Before I rock raps, I drink a keg of Listerine Then I spit the freshest lines you'll ever hear for centuries Then I form blazing sword and cut your mic cords And k** them garbage rhymes only your friends get hyped for Blitz your whole team, them n***as need to come clean So I give 'em an acid wash like old school Levi jeans (Lockjaw!) Crackin your faulty frame And I bring the house down without hijackin planes Locked stocked with two smokin barrels and will use it To f** up more beats per minute than drum'n'ba** music Trunks ain't a rapper, he's a monster from the future Twistin your body in more positions than Kama Sutra Smart-a**, gettin the Last Word with Jim Rome With a right hand like Dr. Claw that's known for breakin bones {"I'll get you next time Gadget, next time"} We can have a close encounter of the f**ed up kind "Time warp, set on"