| It ain’t no mistakin'
 | 
| Rappers out now be fakin'
 | 
| I thought it was a
 | 
| Then why the fuck he shakin'?
 | 
| This nigga scared
 | 
| Oh, I thought he was weird
 | 
| Back-bone connected to the bitch-bone, yeah!
 | 
| That’s why he be mumblin'
 | 
| Fumblin', not rumblin'
 | 
| I thought he spoke German
 | 
| His bitch-ass be stutterin'
 | 
| So what’s the situation?
 | 
| Yo, I had a revelation
 | 
| Fuck up the patient?
 | 
| Yeah, start the operation!
 | 
| «Stick to the script, read it like we wrote it
 | 
| Don’t switch the pitch, bitch you can quote it
 | 
| We sense nonsense, … just dilute it.
 | 
| Bitch blood pumpin' through your veins and we knew it (watch out now)»
 | 
| What? | 
| Look at you, gettin' all your feelings, trynna think of a way to downplay
 | 
| anything I say
 | 
| You just a bitch, acting like you ain’t a bitch, hoping never be exposed for
 | 
| being a bitch
 | 
| Soon as you find yourself in the company of individuals who, for the most part,
 | 
| got they shit together
 | 
| You start talking about cool shit that other people do, then stuck yourself in
 | 
| they shoes like we gonna think it was you.
 | 
| But you’re not that clever. | 
| (Stupid) You can’t slip past our radar,
 | 
| not even in stealth mode, 'cos once you cross the threshold you zapped with a
 | 
| barcode. | 
| so no we all know and you can never go incognito.
 | 
| 'Cos your ID reveals your past and untold truths, you’re a bitch-blood carrier,
 | 
| you’re not contagious but nobody wants to be around you.
 | 
| Now you done fucked up, bro let me tell you, y’all on some bullshit,
 | 
| that’s why shit fell through. | 
| Reneging on contracts, got kinda yeisty,
 | 
| saw dollar signs 'cos I was on MTV.
 | 
| Talking that dumb shit, you want half for publishing? | 
| Bitch work for hire,
 | 
| now you gets nothing. | 
| Tracks wasn’t that good, … album’s done anyway.
 | 
| Fuck around, need you just like old management: told Ming go solo?
 | 
| You fucked your own self, that was a no-no, go 'head with that bullshit,
 | 
| your touch ain’t platinum, you had us and Daewon, tell me: what happened?
 | 
| Industry sources said that your label dip came from the Spooks. | 
| Oh,
 | 
| that’s the playing field? | 
| Nigga, you bitch, thought it was all sweet?
 | 
| Save all that rap and I’ll see you on a dark street.
 | 
| Implant
 | 
| You hold the strobe light
 | 
| Take out the heart, yo!
 | 
| Divulge the big knife
 | 
| Go get the funnel
 | 
| You got the blood bowl
 | 
| Bitch blood spillin' and, oh!!!
 | 
| We stealin' your soul.
 | 
| No courage!
 | 
| Thick blood
 | 
| Y’all black as porridge.
 | 
| Disbarred, mentally fradulent, you thinking it hard!
 | 
| Chop a nigga lifeline short, you livin' too long!
 | 
| (Some lyrics missing, all help appreciated. I know at least some of them are
 | 
| contained in the booklet for S.I.O.S.O.S Volume 1, but I don’t have it to hand). |