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    You looking in the mouth of madness, skilled out since I had this  
    I'm talking bout nothing but pure D badness  
    My acceleration is compatible to a bima  
    My pockets looking greener, from the funky cold medina  
    Don't tell me bout the things that you done did cause I done did it  
    Don't tell me bout the skins that you done hit, cause I done hit it  
    And once I rock these, with a style that's cock deis  
    Good God, I get the crowd together like knock knees  
    Now, I don't act hard, I just mack hard  
    Baggin' video looking honeys with the big back yard  
    Yes lord, girls I'm gamin' leaving the microphone flamin'  
    Throwing up hip-hop signs cause that's the set that I be claimin'  
    Guerilla war fares for those who love to pull your card  
    Grimies from Fort Green to Malcolm X Boulevard  
    Now, if that's what you're hoping then it's the wrong things you're scopin'  
    I may not rap bout slittin no throats but trust me kid I'll get you open  
     
    Verse 2  
    Here comes a taste of the rawness, like you never saw this  
    Once I grip the cordless, my victory is flawless  
    Chaos and havoc, lyrically psychopathic  
    At times get pornographic, lord man I gots to have it  
    Then I commit to hit you with this composite that's ultimate  
    Too legit splendid come get wit' it for your comfort  
    But then sloppily, rappers try to copy me  
    Take pieces of my property, and use it all unproperly  
    And probably, been focusing a while to copy my style  
    But child what I'll compile is too versatile  
    I'm too superior, it's sort of like comparing a  
    Spanking new Desert Eagle to a rusty little derringer  
    But skip the tool, let's try to deal here with the jewel  
    That I'm droppin on you, now let me take you all to school  
    You see, to graduate in hip-hop you must be smart  
    And no you don't have to know how to paint to make your rhymes a form of art  
    Poetry and literature is what makes this English fanatic  
    Now dig this, I drop science but still deal with mathematics  
    And since I don't be dealing with what's considered a mystery  
    I learned the dead presidents to pass American History  
    Got my degree in rapology  
    Hip-hop had to set me free, look mom, a real emcee  
    So you want yours now, well don't get caught with your drawers down  
    Cause word life, this industry is half corrupt just like the Dogg Pound  
     
    Verse 3  
    Rap godfather  
    Oh goodness gracious, you better make it spacious  
    For the vivacious, ostentatious, who feel courageous?  
    I put it on them using my tongue as a sword  
    But at times get broader than broad for those who insist to get floored  
    Whatever it takes to see your nerve gone, and word born  
    Black Caesar gonna get his swerve on  
    My name should be referred to in medical terms  
    Cause I get way up in the cut and I'm talking way worse than germs  
    You like to chase it playin catch like Tom & Jerry  
    But on the contrary, I'd rather sip the Dom Peri  
    Lay back in harmony, because it's so bizarre to see  
    That all the hard core rappers are slowly turning R&B  
    Well pardon me, you contradict yo'self, I see you not perfect yo'self  
    You like that type music yo'self, stick yo'self  
    What happened to black men of pride ?nuff men have died  
    Nowadays what's been applied, in hip-hop is genocide  
    That's when the rappers go get the clappers  
    Can't you see they trying to strap us just to trap us, good god it's backwards  
    One nation under a groove, that's how we move  
    It's time to teach the youth get it together show and prove  
    Me no run with the gun or speak of none for action  
    When you get done scream I'm the one, it looks like an illusion  
    I deal with equality so never call my brethren son  
    Yes mon, me got mad flava just like jerk chicken

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