You straight bitch whether I say it or not
"Gimme Some Mo'" like Busta Bus', who do you trust?
You at the front door bitchin because you ain't on the list
Blow the spot with some old school shit from junior high (HEYYY!)
Hardcore til somebody put me under the ground
Gotta be hard like a young nigga walkin the yard
Leavin non writin cats stuck on the plantations
Might be over your head, but it's straight from the heart
I'm an Alkaholik nigga so I finish the fifth
When the slugs let go like Frankie Beverly
Convertible style, still had the heat knockin
Worse than boric acid in your project cabinet
The stuff legends are made of, urban folklore
One, two, three, four
Straight to apocalypse is where I'm takin the art
Raw your wack set is faker than a bomb threat
Me and my clan used to dance thicker than quicksand
Grimy bitch stomp the bogey outside your front door (yeah)
For the first time, we ain't the niggaz you let shine
Your little lungs is too weak to hotbox with God
Find some chickens to fry, while you find it hard to stick to your lie
One, two, three, four
I'm irrate, usin your body for live bait
By a nervous terrorist who's so scared that his palms wet
Forever we stack notes like the treasury, flow heavenly
Puttin heads to bed like Hennessey and NyQuil
Rock the whole world like the Rolling Stone tour (AH-AHHH!)
Yo, yo, yo
You'll be suckin it down like fast food high C's
AllOne, two, three, four
Makin wack rappers go and merc the set
Givin niggaz battle scars, always makin' my mark
Swingin through, your favorite neighborhood lush
Make your foul ice grill, thug grimy on the real
Puffin on Goodie, eatin tuna and rye
Mini-skirts with tights, eatin lunch with whites
Then fall the fuck off like limbs affected with leprosy
Dirty Harriet, increase the fanbases
Like Jim Morrison we break on through
Jersey's finest in the house, punchlines and metaphors
One, two, three, four
Where we at? Thug rebels love metal clubs ghetto
Dilate, cock back the weight, spread hate
Yeah (here we go)
Heavy metal we settle and set shit straight
Put our town's names on the map
Xzibit rockin them heavy gems you can't take
Gonna rock shit down like he can't get no visits
Yeah (ohhhhhhh) hehehe (aight y'all, aight y'all )
Niggaz be gassed like Cipher Sounds, and need rescue remedy
Rage Against the Machine, break it apart
Rah Digga, First Lady of the Flipmode Squad
It's like One, two, three, four
Cause I be adamant, kill 'em when my joints get added in
Supply and demand the hand is quicker than the eye
One, two, three, four
With a dick in your ear, still couldn't fuck with my sound
Why the fuck can't MC's MC no more?
From now until we fadin to black
Kweli, Xzibit, new millenium! (C'mon, check it)
I show my love in the light while y'all hate in the dark
Hit gates in my younger days, from the policeman
One, two, three, four
I see through the tricks, destroy the facade
Bumpin shit from way back with my man beatboxin
Shootin the breeze, see I'm nice with these
Before I care about your take on me, we take on you
Takin me straight to the weed spot, then to the liquor sto'
Better off behind a desk tryin to surf the net
Shit is hot, spittin flames on the track
You fakin the part of gangster, til niggaz break in your spot
Type of rap bitch that love underground classics
Leave the party over here like they Israelites
Expect mines to blow lines like coke everytime
Gettin more green than that nigga St. Patrick
We bring it straight to your face from the start, yo
Get you high on speech laced with obscenity
Got Cali Brooks critics, Ta' Kweli, Xzibit
