Both hands clusty, chillin' wit my man Rusty low Blew off the kinda dusty The can't touch Ghost, purple tape Rae co-host Monty Hall expo, you red pro Son trifling fuck, on the cycling Pick up the thought I was Michael an' Mics are writin' pool, now, I'm Iron Duals Turn-ons the whoopee, she out of law school In hale break beats of A-Alikes propel parallel Duracell night, you flash a cell Snap out of CandyLand, kids the old is blacks become to shit, we never did like eati' dead birds chose the pharmacy over Men men, ill they got the herbs pulsar Scissor hand wig vanished in the off land you god damn right I fuck fans king me Check checkmate props the micro chip founder Neck to stocks with Bill Gates now
we hug these mics we get busy Come and a good time with G-O-D you snap your fingers or wiggle Scream, shout, laugh and just Shake that body, party body Don't fuck Ghost you'll feel sorry That's word, I'm not the Understand I'm sayin'
Hit mics like Ted Koppel, expert Let off the Eiffel, burn a flag in the it's spiteful Ringleader set it off, rap Jeter Culprit, prince of the game wish you see us We lay low glitter wax bangles Priceless rolls, lay the God get tangled Woolly hair, eyes firey red, made of brass Twelve men, me, it be the God staff Move, every like Miramax Smash the big boy totalled it, shot fear effects Son beamin' wifee on the beach, Zima Wu 'binos, to latinos, we bust night, God schedules, fed ex Pretty velvet nice DNA scroll genetics Too hot, to handle one thought scrambling the game Wilt Chamberlain, smack em, say when He rolling up, face up, hands is on his nuts Yo kid stop on the ground before you get touched It's Dry sess, obsessed with Allah's sun We want rye, we it so bad we might cry