[Verse 1] Ladies and gentlemen, you ain't gotta stay in your element My staff chuckles while brass knuckles scraping your melanin You're claiming it was an accident, pay me the settlement You saying you wasn't having it, I gave it, you yelling, "Quit!" Oh, it's on the low though? I stuff cigars with stuff from jars Above the stars, M.P., they aim drums this hard I shoot my load ten feet and they asking if I ever thought I'd come this far Look, I knew I'd do it, the question is who was stupid to mess with this Who was losing a second, this music scooped and the weapon is To his crew and the message is, "Don't push me" You're so pussy that you're oozing with estrogen Straightjacket tightened by my psycho ward And he straight up forgot to lace up my Michael Jordans I don't write no chorus, no alter ego writes those for us Fuck a tree dog, I light whole forests I've got the flows to toast most approachers And got the toes so foes don't approach us Nah, [?] brought the shotty and the case, check it Nigga'll make em drop shells quicker than Jay records And the crowd's mine, I'll out-rhyme your hood I'm outside with about nine guys, it's good While you peasants cry by my foot to rhyme when I’m done But that's saying they're trying to get outshined like Suge Look, you pussies either roll eight or one Trying to jump me but still can't, they hate on son They'll get their money jacked, see me in the span of a few years Do shit till they see me off Jack, Patron, and a few beers [?] Big L, Big Pun, and Biggie With an attitude like Jigga so if you come and get me There'll be eight people with a spiked bat and a gun to [?] me And if I got you for money wait until I'm drunk to hit me, pussy Matter fact, you ain't even a pussy You're what bleeds when the summer's eve cleaning the pussy C.O.P. you freestyle to see no fee I am the C.O. bringing it to you COD Cash on delivery, and no one can do it better, shit I'm the D-O-C with OCD, spit heat like a Creole feast That's why they be on beats, and stick to the point, I don't see my own feet
[Hook] I can introduce you to your maker You got a problem with me homeboy, step to me Strap you down and slap you ‘round Yeah I said it
[Verse 2] Star sprinter, run any track flash above par [Barlinder] Glue sniffer, jacking coke like a bartender Punchlines till your bar's tender so let's [?] And we're shooting stars like Hayley's Comet denting car fenders My car's bouncing, got hydraulics and metal toys Yours ride’s mind's playing tricks like the Ghetto Boyz Why am I lying? I ain't got the car and I'm unemployed My lunch during the day and on it I don't have butter point No pot to piss in or to cop a squat and drop my shit in Radio off so I can listen to my couch petition I can sell to [?] It's simple waking up with a naked slut in my boxers Listen, hip hop is getting out of control Every power that flows is gangster till the powder's out of his nose Man in '95 I thought music was losing its touch Compared to now that was a golden era, who would've thought? Now this shit is full of gimmicks, energy, cynics, and critics Who hate one minute then the next want finish your sentence This fake game makes we want to take names With the chrome in hand and take aim like I own this, man [?] But I'm not trying to spring life beneath dirt Or a Shyne and C-Murder I grind to these words In the mind of each person populating earth Cop the tape and stop the hating jerk