[Verse 1: Pete Rock] I travel the land with the SP in my hand Rock from New York, London and Japan It's time to take command, expand to higher lands P.H., the next man not in the plans I'm dead serious, like as in response I hit n***as in the head P.R. the thoroughbred comes through intellectual I rap lyrical, always on tha humble and sometimes I'm spiritual Hands down accept any mans challenge I strive and keep the competition off balance The fruits of my talent is this: it's simple I drop science on the instrumental I take seven ill drums put 'em in a line And add seven more snares to make it combine It'll take seven more horns before I start to rhyme Now that twenty-one beats made up at the same time I was bound to shine haters get left behind Ain't no time for them, stamp my name on rap Perhaps you hear da words from pay next sequel Part two something for tha people I'm still number one [Verse 2] Now I appear return ten years the pioneer Deliver action thrillers that explode in ya ear Compensate for all the ups and downs in my career Stop the small talk my focus remains clear Should have won a Nobel Prize for thoughts and ideas Critically acclaimed while some of y'all cats in tha game for fame Fame lives in my name: Pete Rock, it's simple and plain Check it, simply stressing it soon to start chin checking kids God protected, so I'm selected to orchestrate the next great And create, contemplate the world's fate, P.R. the heavyweight Put these thoughts in ya mind while we on the topic You can tell I'm still on it by the way I rock it Full swing introduce the ninety-eight product n***as talk the gossip but they ain't got sh** I'm number one [Verse 3] This goes out to deejays and emcees Unlock real hip-hop, Rock holds the key Magnificent, ya style is irrelevant I'll flip the ba** and erase any trace of sample evidence Trust a few men within this circle of thieves Single out the enemy with ease Earned every stripe on my sleeve The five star general keep it moving, ya rap needs improvement So here's a lesson to learn, lyrics under fire burn third degree And my steez is making hot tracks for G's World famous, salute my capabilities with 21 guns and ammunition The SP runs 91 rounds precision on target with this rap bullet First string team in position The medal of honor hanging from my neck swinging I'm still number one