Yo  niggaz don't want none of this
 Niggaz know they can't fuck with this
 Turn this shit up just a little more

 I walk the night in rhymin armor  bomb a nigga like a winter coat
 Have him on Death Row searchin for an Interscope
 Yet I sparkle like Irene Cara
 Symbolize dope  like sirens do terror
 Mariel just had a baby someone else decapitated
 Flashbacks of past raps make me so glad I made it
 Players is gettin traded
 I drop a gem off, them who's style is jaded
 My juice is grated
 Shit is so bangin niggaz say it's gang related
 On philosopher's rink of thought, I've skated with precision
 Crews is gettin split like decisions
 Com will let it ride in collision
 Vision like Colleco or tele, I battle stars in stellar...
 Regions, my thought scheme was my like my offspring
 Now, it's teethin
 My reason of rhyme applies to season and time
 Season of mind , body and regions divine
 In mom's cookouts, I'm leavin the swine
 Verbal vegeterian, squashed beef with Ice Cube
 Came in this rap life nude
 Now I'm fully clothed with flows
 You tricks can't hide behind expensive cars and clothes
 Old niggaz I expose like Luke does hoes in videos
 With classic material, imperial and rugged like
 Got mag, but my slugs a mic
 You fake like a smile, like a hug, I'm tight
 Skip ladies, this is rip a muthafucka night
 Oracle arouse, niggaz don't even run for cover right
 Downtown interracial lovers hold hands
 I breathe heavy like an old man, with a cold can of Old Style
 Hold a Stone Isle profile
 Mix between Malcolm X and Sef when I go wild
 Hold mics like a second nut until the second comin
 Hummin comin towards you with power like forest do
 Hip hop, you my bitch and like a Ford, I'm Explorin you
 So, wack niggaz be cool, with them, I stay cordial
 Flowin room temperature, cats is presumed miniature
 Like golf. Soft like Tiger Woods
 And real nigga angles I've stood with ways that's geometric
 Don't need to rob banks with dike broads to Set it
 I levitate to the occasion, lounge like a lyricist
 Rhyme wise, you a rest haven
 You sat by the door spooked like I was Wes Craven
 You need to do more deletin and less savin
 A praise in hell, raisin heaven
 Like the bill on my pager leavens
 What you should have known from day one
 You will on day seven

 (scratching)Hungry hip hop junkie in the city(x3