I got the skills to pay the bills
 I don't pop pills but I send chills
 Up your spine when I rhyme
 I get wicked  you got a booger  pick it
 Sippin' on the fourty  ya know it makes me horny
 Spread them legs  grab my axe
 Fire up the grill and crack the kegs
 Nobody fear  the party's here
 Everlast is comin'  the funky drummer's drummin'
 Ya only came backstage to make the front page
 To get me locked up, or get yourself knocked up
 But I ain't with it, even if I did it
 I got a hundred homeboys to say I didn't hit it
 My name's Everlast, I got the funky rhymes
 I make more papers than the LA Times
 I don't do lines, but I puff blunts
 I don't rock fronts, but I stuff stunts
 Fill 'em to the brim like a cup of coffee
 If ya don't know me, homey, back up off me
 Cause I ain't soft, see, I'll fly ahead
 You wind up dead, you made your bed
 Now ya gotta lie in it, don't bother tryin' it
 Take my advice, homeboy, think twice
 Before you step up, step back
 Or catch a smack, guess who's back

 Chorus
 (He's back) Guess who's back (Everybody's in the street) (4x)
 (He's back) (Everybody's in the street) (3x)
 (He's back) (2x)

 He's back from the dead, with the shaved head
 Don't start to trip, dip, I brought my lead
 Just in case you wanna fuck around
 I'll stare ya dead in the face, and then I'll buck ya down
 I'll put ya six feet deep, some say talk's cheap
 But I make big bucks servin' up punk ducks
 By the pound, I got the sound
 I never been checked, I only get wrecked
 I kick the willy drag, let my pants sag
 Don't give up the booty, cause I ain't no fag
 Checkin' out checkit, I'm prone to wreck shit
 If ya dig this joint, check the next shit
 I'm Everlast and it's a natural fact
 That the white man is back

 Chorus

 I'll eat you up like some butter cups from Reese's
 I come in peace, but you'll leave in pieces
 That's how I'm livin', that's how it goes
 Everyday I'm sleepin', every night I'm doin' shows
 Always gettin' hoes when there's hoes to get got
 Always wear my hat so I never need a shot
 Always drink a beer before I write a rhyme
 And if I have to drive I avoid the one time
 Stay between the lines and I won't get pulled over
 I don't need luck cause I got a four leaf clover
 Yea I'm Irish, word to the motherland
 But on the otherhand
 I love America, apple pie, mom and all that
 My pockets stay phat, step the fuck back
 Play me close and you catch a mean dose
 Of my fist, homeboy you get dissed

 Chorus