| BK representative Problemz
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| DJ Honda
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| «We don’t play when it’s time to slay» — Erick Sermon
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| «Kill the noise» — Parrish Smith
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| Check it, yo
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| Bench pressin rappers, be givin me extra strength like Excederin
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| But this veteran is better in this profession when I’m editin
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| Competitors, steppin to my direction but I’m two steps
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| Ahead a ya, my flow is non-stop like et cetera
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| Et cetera, from beginning to end I begin to blend
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| And you gets no wins even if your stereo is on ten ten
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| Comin directly from BK representin on the love love
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| Makin shorties push up like Hurby Luv Bug
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| Word to momma niggas don’t really want no drama
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| Cause when I register my armor they all pause like a comma
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| I’ma, bout ready to break this down and get more claps
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| Than a shorty with crabs, givin up ass on the ave
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| I be the honorable, like Elijah Muhammad, Farrakhan
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| And all praises due when I run through tracks like a maraton
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| They call me Problemz, a.k.a. the Head Honcho
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| Liver than O.J. |
| Simpson on the freeway in his white Bronco
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| Dem batty bwoy nah wan come test
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| One of the best in this profession that’s no question I be reppin
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| «We don’t play when it’s time to slay» — Erick Sermon
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| «Kill the noise» — Parrish Smith
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| Understand the Problemz is internationally ranked supreme
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| BK connection, when I be reppin that’s no question
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| Deceased presidentials on my mentals at all times
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| Hop in the three and a quarter, hit the spot and cop four dimes
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| Raw rhymes enable me to live life luxurious and lavish
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| My vital infested with carats
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| Cabbage is the topic of discussion cousin
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| Eight multiplied by a dozen is the year my name will start buzzin
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| You wasn’t, prepared nor aware caught you off guard
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| In actuality you barred, frontin like you hard
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| On my sixty inch screen, tellin lies to my vision
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| Frontin like you was in prison Dunn you know that shit is fiction
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| While I’m sittin on mill’s, coppin a mansion in the Hills
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| Preferably in Beverlly collectin treasury consecutively
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| Inevitably the refugee with the recipe
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| Breakin these niggas up like referees is my specialty
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| You know the four-eleven black strictly stacks on top of stacks
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| L-E-X three-double-ohs and Legend Ac’s
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| Puttin the facts on wax, bout to blow like a sax
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| Problemz recognize now bring that back
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| «We don’t play when it’s time to slay» — Erick Sermon
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| «Kill the noise» — Parrish Smith
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| (Who the fuck are you?)
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| I’m the wrong nigga to fuck with shit don’t tempt me
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| Cause I blow up spots like Ed Kozinsky this MC
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| Tried to convince me that he was nice when he was wack
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| So he was forced to pay the price and got his ass Jack-ed like Dempsey
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| Left his motherfuckin pockets empty, cause his technique was flimsy
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| Pulled out on Son Duke, just like a Benz-y
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| Anti-benevolent, never hesitant to represent
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| Catch a couple of bodies do away with the evidence
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| Dem batty bwoy nah wanna come test me
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| Cause when a nigga like Problemz get busy I leave em Dizzy like Gillespie
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| Comin directly, from the battlefields of BK with my armor
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| Word to momma niggas don’t really want no drama cause this rhymer
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| Cause trauma, hurry and dial nine-eleven for EMS
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| Bitch niggas keep crampin my style like PMS
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| I Flex like Funkmaster lyrical styles cause disaster
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| When I blast your ass like NASA you’re be whinin like Patra
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| Who’s the master… |