| We’re on wax and it concerns ya that’s make us eternal like a picture
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| Ya bitch ya, I’ll fix ya, raise a rapture ripped ya scripture
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| I’ll mac a meal infact until I stack the bills ta rack the skills
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| ta get a track ta kill them rap at will, the I is capital
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| double L, lower case t-o-w-n
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| No trouble, I’ll bust your bubble then leave you for ruin
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| Such come a dime a dozen, fuck some
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| You lost the race by a dick slut’s cum cos nuts won
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| What fun freaking it frequently, freak wit me, slick ta freak quick
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| Your girl’s poonany’s packed like tha freaknic
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| We get redicu-down-diculous and devious, believe me bitch
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| Now your fucking soul ain’t so mischevious
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| Diss who? |
| We’re the hip-hop rap pounder founder
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| Ricocheting PM to AM, frying freestyle flounders
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| big as bouncers
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| Ounce ta ounces
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| Don’t make us check you
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| yes you, just know respect due!
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| (Vinnie)
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| I’m hearin niggas in the game yappin this yappin that
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| Talkin Vinnie don’t write and Vinnie can’t rap
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| but I bet if you put a pen and pad in my hand
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| I could write it in your face my friend, put it on tape and then
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| give it to my nigga Kay Gee, he produces me Pump it thru the Flavor Unit, spread it thru the industry
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| The next three weeks my single done peaked on the rap sheets
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| Sound’s knockin from malls to swapmeets
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| And then there’s oh mad tours and oh mad whores
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| We sign autographs by the G’s in the in-stores
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| And then there’s oh mad sex and ASCAP checks
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| So when I, um, plex it, it’s me I’m in the beamer or Lexus
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| Guess which nigga is next to flex this
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| Style that I be rippin’s authentic so don’t text this
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| (Treach)
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| You can fool some of the people some of the time but not all of the people
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| all of the time
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| Some of the rhymes some of the times cos some of the 9's some of em mine
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| And bout a brown as Bobby wit a trolley
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| to bury Halle, it’s chocolate so pardon Dolly as a hobby
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| When it comes to harm me ya don’t alarm me cos I roll wit Double I and Ron G’s army
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| So that’s 235 on a slang bang
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| and see Ron wit a nigga for fucking A-Train
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| And that’s deep like the minds of Minolta
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| Deep ditch like the Swedish knits on John Travolta
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| If you don’t look good we don’t look good
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| These nuts that soon clear the room
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| So boom to the break and break, ah, to the snap
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| and snap ta the beat, I’ll freak them, bring it back
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| So’s I had no choice but ta roll wit the flow
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| Plus I came over the bridge and I ain’t wasting my toll |