[Verse 1: Mr. Welcome to the ill of Mr. P-O Ay, keep the talk, B; I'm see dough If it about bread, what we gon' speak fo If it ain't no lead, it ain't no beef, bro You better get a cause your freak ho Specialize in like she Home Depot I'm like DeBarge, we stars Roscoe P. in these bars, man Amtrak, I'll her damn back, man It's Ralph Lauren, ain't no damn Chaps It's all Polo; I'm so pro You El Pollo Loco Talking bout and this ain't no photo Asking bout rings like the ho know You get out of my house and shit I think I threw up in my mouth a bit, I'm
2: Royce da 5'9"] Niggas be lying, talking 'bout that, bust a Once I see him, maybe more Justin Bieber Leaving my rivals underground Skyzoo's, how I do I have her laying in the and bleeding Butt naked a bullet in his muthafucking head like Erykah Badu I find irony in being in a Where I'm Gucci, mayne; getting White boy wasted I a nigga, break bread or take lead I'm tryna get rid of this like K-Fed Me and Denaun got a gangsta We like that once-in-a-lifetime to you that ain't the prom The next MC that rhyme official ref with a whistle That ain't Young Money, definitely diss you If you rhyming a Mac with back of the Ac Or you can't match my spectacular vernacular You still bottles with models, college for knowledge the word swagger, you're probably garbage You funny, comparing 5'9" to anybody You comparing Superman to Bugs
[Verse 3: I'm like a White Michael - Vick, enough to stick Michael J. Fox in a microwave a Rott I might make a little Alizé a side of NyQuil And ride a motorcycle bike right the side of my high school Satan's disciple with a sniper and a knife and a white diaper Liable to shit on you I snipe you So dope he gets off opiates, an appropriate Way to off his day; he may just smart off to Dre He may be hard to cause his rage is so hard to gauge See Hannibal ate his and met Jason, gnawed off his leg hard-on for razors and blades and anything sharp Even poisonous darts; it all plays a major part of his Holy water won't ward him off, crucifixes won't do the He's so sick, it's ridiculous; sawed the crazy part off his He's still insane, why's bloodstains on his carpet, mane There's some shit going on in Shady's apartment again
4: Mr. Porter] Okay, it's to the blocks, slinging yay like the old days Superman on the beat, I carry my whole You wooden legs to a you can't hold weight Oh shit, O'Shea Jackson! Okay A bit of this twisted out with Obama in it Mr. Porter back with anthrax like sent him Bitch, I'm all that; I the girls crazy They gotta at Rorschachs to get they thoughts back I ain't a small fry, ticker, small tack I make 'em all cry with big dick and raw The potblood of to return a raw rap I'm the best, mane: Eli stance
5: Royce da 5'9"] Y'all bitches should call the Don Bishop A poet, a mixer of Don and John Grisham Flow'll you rewinding it four or five times landmine rhyme written with porcupine line Step up in with the Slaughterhouse C.O.B. will approach you and bend ya gun barrel to a Horseshoe Only fuck wit monsters, we the truth, monsters pop up on ya Like ya said Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, I can't even see the booth, I fit Stevie's shoe I'm sick, I got the Eagle flu I'm rich, lil' nigga, we need a cent, we Teflon The doctor tried to take blood, the bent, ask mom Outta my mind if you can Magic's johnson without a condom, I'm bonkers Got the streets going, dude, it's If I come for ya blood, I gon' be using syringes
[Verse 6: Newsflash, I'm still trashed, them pills killed my ass But they didn't, they made me stronger It's they rebuilt my ass, like the Six Million Dollar Man after the crash It's Aftermath, bitch And my milk is still half-empty Yeah, tempt me! Hell isn't They to invent somewhere new to send me As sick as I'm getting, they'll stick me in a oven With a rotisserie setting and won't notice me sweating Shit, I done made a verse, said foul shit Tryna go back fix it, fucked around and just made it Yeah, I'm back, looking no for wear, got these haters Mad enough to rip off their hair and punching the air Panties so in a bunch that they function It's and Royce, fuck yeah, what a dysfunctional pair So acting like a punk, get a pair Take a pill and fall the fuck out, ya lunch in the chair
7: Mr. Porter] Look I'm sick, somebody better get the Who I gotta shoot just to prove that I can ask where my shine is at I say check the liner notes, I done all kinda crap I am so much of a star, That I can fart and piss on the red Look, my bank retarded My debit got a helmet and a harness, hey Meet demands but all are harmless At shows, my always the largest I need four of fried poultry carcass And red M&Ms; chartered from Look, and if you try to act and start shit I just at em like, I'm the artist In fact that you the deal If you wanna sick, we can all get ill measles, mumps, I made you bitches I don't you chumps, y'all got cheese and I need my chunks Hurry up, so I can go to burn rubber and get some dunks
[Verse 8: da 5'9"] Now if your attitude determines your house that we call hip hop, I'm in the attic, fool A mic and two turntables, fit for the Converted to a padded room, keep a sweeper in fact I call the mag a broom, you seeing beef, things You musta had yourself a bag of shrooms, I a call Make 'em a fall, my clique is too sick, say goodbye In the streets where the is high like Ruth's Chris I'm from the city of true Where the mayor went to for being a player right after Proof split the head of competitors Royce that I'm everyday til Hex Murda get his regular voice back Ras, I got ya, scared at ya, blast from ya From a block ask Tricky, I'm that niggie I'm mo hooder than black I rap like committing in the booth taking the track with me Patrón's in my chromosomes, in order to it alone You to ween me off that Lorena Bobbitt chopper'd Knock a weenie off, put your between chalk I'm squeezing the nine iron like I'm swinging I'm with the best rapper alive, put on it sound's plain as a cheeseburger with nothing on it
[Verse 9: I'll do a hundred-yard just to slash Kim Kardash in the ass With a shard of glass Nick Hogan's car crash You may look like the passenger for that, don't be a ass Yeah, laugh while sit thinking that the hard part passed You ain't seen pain til Leatherface flips, I'll cut ya balls off homie, my saw's off the chain I the bitch in half with it, sawed off her legs And the top half of the torso fucking crawled off and I ain't seen shit like that I went to Mike Jack's And took the Elephant skull, fucked it, and put it right back Handed my dick to Bubbles while he sucked it and licked my Gave him a reach-around while I him right in his buttcrack Nah, I ain't it back, faggot, fuck that I give a fuck nothing so here's where you fucked up at Don't go touching that can, man; you don't open up that a min, ah, shit...Alchemist, cut that