It's like the end to the means
Just keep ya eye out, like, “Aye, aye captain”
When he had the mic you don't go next
Keep your glory, gold and glitter
Givin' y'all nothing but the lick like two broads
Chase it with more beer, taste it like truth or dare
Or even one with two blades on it
Your first and last step to playin' yourself like accordion
That's why he brings his own needles
It's like they know what's 'bout to happen
Got more lyrics than the church got, “Ooh Lords”
The other half is rich and don't mean shit-ta
Slip like Freudian
Hey you, don't touch the mic like it's AIDS on it
A gun fight and they come to cut the mixmaster
Leaving pussy cats like wild hoes need Kotex
Know who's the illest ever like the greatest story told
Is he still a fly guy clappin' if nobody ain't hear it
He sold scrolls, lo and behold
I C E cold, nice to be old
Dick Dastardly and Muttley with sick laughter
And he hold the mic and your attention like two swords
Villain a mixture between both with a twist of liquor
Exercise index won't need Boflex
And get more cheese than Doritos, Cheetos or Fritos
Y2G steed twice to threefold
When he have the mic it's like the place get like, “Oh yeah!”
And can they testify from inner spirit
Fucked type of message that sends to the fiends
For have half of his niggaz'll take him out the picture
In living, the true gods
