[Verse 1] Yea, Original Chucks on Laced up like I’m taking them on a run They beggin me not to kill it I tell em I’m havin fun They askin me how I do it I tell em get on the real (?) Size 11 skate on the surface like hovercraft A superhero you would think that I was a thunder cat I run with Dennis my village callin me Son of Sam Sick because when I come around they sss-stutterin My body tatted they say I look like graffiti that’s why I be on the road These regulars try and read me The way that people was starin you would think that I was a TV And when it comes to the haters I cannot see em like Stevie (?) dead rappers like 6th sense, my competition ain’t worth nothin like 6 cents Misfit, I swear I’m stick shit You’d think I was Terry Kennedy the way I make the kids flip Too cool, handshakes and dap Servin all of these fools like pancakes and snacks Whoever thought that I wouldn’t do damage in the tracks Is pulling they own legs like hamstrings and calfs
Uh, I’m so (?) on my time The Michelangelo of the second Millennium I roll it up and get higher than condominiums My rap’s braille the way the people be feelin em (?) Back Back, EST is in the spot now We be the crew, all of these fools tryna jock now The type of dudes that’ll make ya mouth drop down (?) will be getting twisted like we guzzling Ciroc now