It's over here!
It's over here!

Check it
We ice cold, rap Siberia North Pole
"This ain't rock'n roll, cause the rapper's in
control"
I'm like a blacksmith, forgin' the mic into gold
The game gets old, when the game gets sold
I spent a lot of time, perusin' the T Dot
Maybe a beats hot, but syllables bleeped *out*
Many men turn to mice when searchin' for cheese, auk
Pick up these guitars, not negative heat knocks, now
I'm like an Rangular angular rhyme strangular
Bangin' the beats from here to Hallie
And I'm manning a "Microphone"
You best respect Canada
In this musical famine
so here's some manna you can't examine
I'm staggerin'
Drunk amongst style
"Offishal" like "Kardinal"
Big up to Red Won
Misfit, they put me up in the mix
Zeb Rock's ghetto's comin' with a bag of tricks
SICK!

YO
It's over here!
It's over here!
And we blow the spot
Put ya' city on the map and it's called the TDot
Here
It's over here!
And we blow the spot
Put ya' city on the map and it's called the TDot

Oh oh oh
Ya don' know?
Grew up in Whitby, that's East of Toronto
Used to take the Jetta downtown to check the sound
Of DJ X and Mastermindin' the underground
Now I'm grown up but I feel stuck
Hip-hop head forever, tryin' to keep it together
Sometimes I think I'm goin' insane
Pressure bring, pressure flowin' on my head like rain
But fame can bring pain
That's why I got game and a rude attitude
that I call Emily *hay*
So you can get the Prozak if you claim to know that
What I'm livin', I break it down like long division
A mathematician, with inner vision like Stevie
No Wonder, I make a move-a from one street to
Vancouver
Lookin' for philosopher stone
It's over there-no? It's over here-what?
IT'S OVER HERE!

YO
It's over here!
It's over here!
And we blow the spot
Put ya' city on the map and it's called the TDot

Here
It's over here!
It's over here!
And we blow the spot
Put ya' city on the map and it's called the TDot

Ohhh ohhh ohhh ohhhhhhh