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I can't hear nuttin though |
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Alright, where you want me to start at? |
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Aiyyo you can kill the music then |
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Yo, check one two, check one two in the place to be |
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From the bottom to the T-O-P |
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That's right, Flavor Flav, Public Enemy |
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From Bronx to L.A., we don't fail |
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Kickin right here for 7th Veil |
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My man Kool Keith, H-Bomb, no jive |
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Yo, H-Bomb, hit 'em in the head son |
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[H-Bomb] |
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No blazes, tennis shoes and denim |
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Pimp I got the gators, leathers I kill 'em |
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Your bullshit events, don't play right |
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No tribute awards for Mr. Barry White |
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It's Guantanamo Bay, industry's gay |
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Hard to get rich, I don't swing that way |
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That switch to funny make record in Kingston |
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Jesus is black, tell Mel Gibson |
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Who wears a skirt, Sting and Dave Navarro |
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My strap, my money, don't lend, don't borrow |
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The Sunset Strip is Gaza Strip |
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Your clothin line is shit, H is fuckin sick! |
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The rap game industry too quiet |
|
Hehehehehe hah hah Atkins Diet |
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No backpackers pro-athlete actors |
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I rep for pimps, pushers, jackers |
|
The P on the fitted I'm all for pimps |
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I throw ropes down for my niggaz in the clink (yeahhhh boy!) |
|
First and foremost, the industry don't want it |
|
Fuck it, I take what I want and flaunt it |
|
I'm not vexed, they spend for sex |
|
Who's next after Michael, fuck Funkmaster Flex |
|
[Flavor Flav] |
|
Yeahhhh boyee, kickin it for 7th Veil |
|
That's right, H-Bomb (fuck the industry, fuck it) |
|
Kool Keith (fuck the industry nigga fuck it) |
|
Hit 'em G |
|
[Kool Keith] |
|
No game here, I shit on you ill son |
|
Fuck Hollywood's best guest list |
|
Maximum dead-ass parties with flat-ass Paris Hilton |
|
My shit shine bright with Von Dutch wipe |
|
Jockin my gators, bitches with fake titties act like |
|
they don't suck dick, can you see me under the standard light |
|
Fuck the red carpet, I'm in here with standard hype |
|
You just at the crib on Sycamore |
|
Your blonde cocker spaniel, my rings shine in your face |
|
Youse a asswipe, you basketball player nut and scrotum jocker |
|
You the givin ass type, with the Minnesota Timberwolves |
|
Garnett's clockin your ass pipe |
|
Ugly monster-face bitch, you think you dressed tight |
|
Evil bastard, you make your grandmother upset |
|
Don't flush the toilet motherfucker, you tryin to start a fight |
|
Release the shit off my chest, get rid of the gripe |
|
I shit inside your grey and white Nikes |
|
Exercise your fat stomachs, no hamburgers at Chevies |
|
You ride them fuckin bikes |
|
Corny-ass 42 year old player's club bitch |
|
The funky face motherfuckin Wanda Sykes |
|
That baldheaded motherfucker just put a weave in, on UPN |
|
Whack-ass tattoos above your titties |
|
Your hard faced bitch, you'll see me again |
|
Like Faith Evans is the only one that sniffs |
|
All you cocaine motherfuckers in the hills |
|
Even Vivica Fox is a ugly bitch, chasin Curtis for his chips |
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Engineer, just put me in that mix |
