| Whoo, hahh… ohhahh, wooooh | 
| Aww shit! | 
| Hey dudes my interludes more fatter than most niggaz LP’s | 
| So don’t sell me to stale cheese | 
| I’m more nicer than Little Red Robin Hood’s grandmama | 
| puffin on ganja, sippin on a, Cherry Bianca | 
| My grand finale’s like an alley when it’s rowdy | 
| kick more bars than the penile G And let my nine clap loudly | 
| Click click, bee-yow, bang, booyaka! | 
| What am I do to ya? | 
| It’s somethin new to ya Like screwin ya, all over my studi-ah | 
| Ride on my MP-60 and let the S-950 squeeze your titties | 
| That quickly I hooked you, now fix me with your lips | 
| B… otch, unloosen my belt thinkin to grab the crotch | 
| But before you do move my glock before it shoot my cock | 
| And see basically them trick bitches get no dap (word) | 
| And see basically Redman album is no joke (word) | 
| And see basically I don’t get caught up at my label (word) | 
| Cause I kill when they fuck with food on my dinner table (word) | 
| I drop a punchline at lunchtime | 
| cause I’m a Close Encounter of the None Kind | 
| with dumb rhymes | 
| I battle allay’all at one time | 
| So fuck all you fools out there with the large vocabulary | 
| in your sentence, I don’t need that shit to pay my rent with, huh | 
| And to the nosey snake-ass hoes I ask you | 
| Why you be acting all fly | 
| when your monkey-ass work at fast food? | 
| And why is it everytime that a multiplatinum artist | 
| always use the underground to make a comeback? | 
| Is it fair to the hardcore niggaz that rap? | 
| That don’t give a fuck about the radio | 
| plus the next bitch at that? | 
| And being hardcore and mad about wearing high-tech boots | 
| and black skelly hats? | 
| And making fake-ass frowns because your best buddy packs? | 
| Think about it Sip on a chocolate thai, and let your brain fall out of focus | 
| This is another episode, coming live from the Funkadelic man himself | 
| Yeah | 
| Ahhh | 
| Huh |