I gotta suprise-uh, I is a bit wiser, oh yes I gets biz, g
I mention I sling the slang wit me and my man just like it’s a frisbee
Ya flimsy, my thinga-majig is the illest, I throw it like willis
Heiman, when I’m rhymin I’m makin the pape’s like simon
Says ta, my stick it ta master, I still be the best-a
I figgity [fuck] the flame but in the sun, now time for esther
So hi-ho I’m silver, I’m makin the pape’s when I kicks
The [shit] that’ll make you muck when I lose his fleas, lice and his ticks
For the chicks, I be on my good foot, check it, that ass kicks
So yibbida yabber yoozy, [fuck] that floozy suzy chapstick
So here boy, here boy, come get some, it’s krazy
I’m swingin my dukes of hazard just like ? ? ? ? on daisy
I’m swayze
Hook (x8):
(*rappaz just ain’t what they used to be*)
Verse 2: books
I hears ya snorin, you niggas is sleepin, nighty nighty
Lord almighty, I’m bringin it live g, see I be
Rippin and flippin a tongue but some niggas don’t seems to digs me
So I switch, b, like billy bigsby cos I’m the [shit], g
U hoo dixie, they dribblin in they timberlands
I criminal mix styles, oh I flow like adrenaline
Yikes man, the nigga is nice man so thinkin I lost it
But I hypin crews wit the bass then they crossed it
So hip hip hooray, wantin me while I do a
New way to school a new jay, you say
"holy shamrocks, the man rocks with no beat or ham hocks"
Oh yes-in, send the rest in, peace to grandpops
Hook (x8)
Verse 3: dray
Well um, knock knock, who’s that? guess what? my crew’s back
Rippin the hip-hop, penelope pitstop
Doin the bitin, the shit I be writin, you’re givin me rabies
They oughta be usin my trims for sperm and makin babies
Hey ladies, I know a-b’s, I’m makin cd’s
I heard you was eatin your spinach kid, you better be eatin your weeties
Comprendo, so let your friends know I’m losin my noodle
Cos when it be time to doodle, I lose my scruples, ask my pupils
I’m the slippery slang slipper, quick tp rip a qb
Shooby dooby dooby, I do that new g
So you be kool & the gang and I puts my slang in
Hangin loosely, oh yes g, niggas be tryin to test me
Hook (x8)
Verse 4: books
Hear ye, don’t look any further g, see he here is
Still mic checkin [shit], still dead serious
Hello there, I didn’t go nowhere, whatup with the static g?
I be damagin niggas’ fronts like them creases in your cavity
For real though, jumpin jallopy’s huh, I’m robbin that hockey huh
I drop these bumpy cos my style is knock-kneed
So me and my-a, i’s flyer then the witches sweeper
Deep, as keep ya’s drunk, jump into it like aretha
I boogie bang bang the thang like a cramp style slant
Niggas be tryin to hang but they can’t g
Will agains, I’m gettin elegant with the skill again
It don’t mean a thang if I ain’t got my philly friend
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