| When one-two starts actin up
|
| Homey duck, homey duck, homey duck, homey duck
|
| BLAOW! |
| Somebody shoulda told that dude
|
| BLAOW! |
| Somebody shoulda told that dude
|
| «One, two, three, four, five»
|
| Oh-six through oh-eight, this is oh-nine live
|
| And for the new year I pack a chrome fo'-five
|
| And keep it straight raw like Shady fo'-five
|
| It’s I, youngest in charge, a.k.a. so fly
|
| Act up, I’m your neck like a fuckin bowtie
|
| Back up, show respect to the newest multi-
|
| -million sold, and that’s only in the N.Y. — OH!
|
| Get low when that kickback blow
|
| I put a X on you squares, call it tic-tac-toe
|
| Put a lil' tag on his toe
|
| I call it yeast infection faggot how I get that dough
|
| So who want beef, and I’mma shoot it 'til my shooter come through
|
| Hop out the Cougar put a hole in your medullah
|
| It’s mo' back at it I’m stoned like crack addicts
|
| Hocus pocus sayonara I’m gone — black magic
|
| + (Parrish Smith)
|
| That EPMD we a hip-hop phenom'
|
| This style I birthed it, I am the mom
|
| The illest (Slow Flow) and the one-two
|
| (Without D.M.C. I’m who they Run to)
|
| Who they come to, to get their swag
|
| (I've been that little boy with the duffel bag)
|
| Ain’t anything changed, keep cash bags with me
|
| (I'm a threat, so I keep trash bags with me)
|
| Okay! |
| Dem lay, and if dey dumpin
|
| Double pumpin shotgun action, who’s askin?
|
| YOUUUUUUUUUUUU~! |
| (Can't be for real)
|
| (You eatin, but you ain’t finish your meal)
|
| Uhh, I’m the blueprint for those who can’t lose
|
| (I wrote them checks so I paid them dues)
|
| Yeah Sermon, who walked in my shoes?
|
| You better be Bigfoot (if not stay put)
|
| So I’m the future of this music, bet your life on that
|
| Since construction paper and Crayolas I’ve been writin raps
|
| So don’t confuse me with these bamas that, ain’t got no talent
|
| And just all of a sudden up and decide to rap
|
| Ain’t no disguisin that bullshit, they ride to that bullshit
|
| Who bought 'em that bullshit? |
| Your mom and them?
|
| She probably mad, 'bout to whup your ass for not again
|
| But don’t feel bad, you just tryin to win
|
| Talkin 'bout designers and your diamonds what you drivin in
|
| And you ain’t even behind the wheel, go to the passenger side of it
|
| Tell me — why is that niggas do that? |
| That nigga ain’t do that
|
| He lyin, he ain’t never lived through that
|
| Even people that know you hear you and be like «Who dat?»
|
| That nigga ain’t do that (uh-uh, I don’t believe him)
|
| I been knew that, been seen through that
|
| Hear you yappin 'bout some weight you never sold
|
| People you ain’t never shoot at
|
| Take it down, let’s see whatever fairy tales you bring back
|
| (You do got a good imagination though, I can tell you that)
|
| This force is all boss, to fakers of all fakers
|
| Just face it, you all talk and it’s PHONY BABY |