(Chorus) ahhh-ooohh!! watcha gonna do when you see the fu-schnicks come through
I'm coming evil like knievel mad like a scientist smoothe and silky rhyme are milky than even milk D but niggas try to catch it like a scooby snack I'll lay ya flat on ya back like an L.T. sack it's the P.O. from the brook chopping rappers like a chef for real yo! hold up na-na-na wait a minute I'm super like man when it comes to mics I'll bring ya styles of all types more than high top nikes catchin wreck like a tornado comin through ya area ain't no hearing ya with mass hysteria rhymes I'll like vomit wit maneuvers like a chess player that make me solid like gold I roll on beats as if it's whores you better check ya sources if I was you and you was me I'll be just extra cautions so what's up ya think that ya really wanna riff man I'll run through ya crew like emmett smith so
(Chorus)
now ain't I a stinker I think I'm (hiccup) think I'm (hiccup) (cough) drunk but yo I'm ready (hiccup) ready to (cough cough) catch a punk and (cough) puff em full a lead shoot em till he's dead and ooh I'll crush his little head to pieces yo it seem like I can't let let these suckers pass so I'll leave MC's suffering like tha tha tha thuckatash cuz I rocks em, shock em all y'all can lick this, excuse my french yo I'm coming like that grinch that stole christmas now wit this, ignite me light me, fssssss! boom! leaving skid eerk! marks eerrk! all over this track ya ding-a-ling but will and come again I think my spidey sense is tingling kid I'm live like at the apollo, bullet tips are hollow time fee kill a sound kill a sound kill a sound bwoy tomorrow when I raps I'm that hard act to follow you can never bite my style, because it's wild and hard to swallow
(Chorus)
ahh-oohhh! it's true I'm down wit the infamous fu crew do do I though ya knew and it's visible I'm surely imperial I'm golden chosen and quick ta open brothers up for the year of '94 don't snore ya thought I had one style, but kid I got much more now let's see.. I'm trippin I agree my mind's slippin off and on the track and strapped wit a rhyme a microphone like a gat, an animal that's planning to get a piece of the action with the traction shoots a three point shot like paxson ya askin nothin homeboy I knew ya fluffin again and again you're mouthin off saying nothing, so what in the hell you doing here are you lost I'm top notch, I get props your head will get tossed of course I'm swingin shit wit force, so what's up now?!?!?!