Yo, microphone check, one, two, what is this?
Five-foot assassin with the roughneck business
Flow like gravity, never had a cavity
Got more rides than the Wireless Scott family
I'm saving you against a type of stain
No shame, never change, I'll always be the same
Styles upon styles upon styles is what I have
You wanna test the flavor but you still don't know the half
Smarter than alleys deep into a more than narrow path
If you fuck around with this, you'll catch a sizing of your ass
Never half-step, not a half-stepper
Drink a lot of soda so they call me Dr. Pepper
Refuse to compete with bullshit competition
Your name ain't special like second with the mission
Never was the deep thinking, it's all about me
Even though deep in my heart said it really could be
Just drop my mental, I go all out
Somebody play your drum, I... (Uh, uh, uh, uh)
Zulu Nation, brothers, God's creation
My mic in front of me, I can't see the end of the day
(What?)
Play on the two-inch tape
The Abstract Poetic Alito, see, I (Runs the cake)
Not the best and not the worst, but occasionally I curse
To get my (Word across), so bust (The flow)
As I go up in between (Between), the grit and the dirt (The dirt)
Listen to the mission, Chi-Town, we do work (Hard)
As I crack up that (Harmonic tone)
Chilling with the dad, see, y'all (Get your own)
Smoking on the weed because they tryna do me
All the best, all the rap, all they can't do rap because it's
(Abstrak), what? (Original)
I said they can't get their own and their shit is (Pitiful)
I said I know I'll be the man if I go, yank the blunt
(Underneath), check it out, sing the song
Bugging out, bugging out, bugging out, you're bugging out
Bugging out, bugging out, bugging out, you're bugging out
Sing that shit
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