(feat. Rhymefest, Supastition) 



Yeahhh...uh 

Yeahhh...uh 



[Phonte:] 

'Bout a 9 on the Richter Scale 

wit a whole lotta mixtapes and shit to sale 

Soon as the LB hit the shelves 

Y'all niggaz is ass out like Chip & Dale's 

Not rescue rangers, we don't rescue strangers 

who jump ship, 'cause they ain't think our ship would sail 

and now they tremblin, cause Tay's the Gremlin 

who won't let y'all niggaz eat after twelve 

Me and my team, yeah we be lampin 

and let y'all silly niggaz, yeah we be laughin 

Y'all ain't gory fellas, ya'll, are storytellers 

on some, "Well y'know this one time at band camp..." shit 

You don't wanna go to war wit the Cap'n 

Tell ya boy to fall back like he was relapsin 



I'ma do it to death! (yeahhh...) 

I'ma do it to death! (uh) 

I'ma do it to death! (yeahhh...) 

I'ma do it to death! (uh) 



[Supastition:] 

You can voice your opinion, you could front on my LP 

Criticize all you want but cain't none of ya tell me (what?) 

that I don't deserve this; you lucky that we breathin 

Trust me, there's a REASON I'm runnin wit LB 

And we ain't goin out main crippled by the industry 

Since rollin out the fame triple tremendously 

The hunger still there, must I remind these dudes 

when dinner is frozen pizza and Chinese food 

I'm self-managed, self-made, and certainly self-centered 

Nobody would take the job so I cast myself in it 

(By choice) I'm independent, you'll understand inna minute 

Learn from all the red tape, I went through in the beginning 

(Gimme mine!) But see the bad side is Supastition 

I'ma, do it to death and here's proof I did it, ja'know? 



I'ma do it to death! (yeahhh...) 

I'ma do it to death! (uh) 

I'ma do it to death! (yeahhh...) 

I'ma do it to death! (uh) 



[Rapper Big Pooh:] 

Young'n you write cautious, I flow nauseous 

You Datsun, we Porsches; sturrin up losses 

for bosses or so-called bosses 

Runnin back home to you porches, nauseous 

Cause and effect, it's because of me 

you don't get no respect, and you ain't learned yet 

that you are no threat, and I will not fret 

I get more love than you on your own set 

I'm willin to bet you got someone in ya ear 

Tellin you, all the pretty shit you wanna hear 

Like how you gon really put a end in my career 

Keep sayin, "You a beast" Muh'fucker, not here 

'Cause I am the king, and this is my throne 

And all that treason will not be condoned 



I'ma do it to death! (yeahhh...) 

I'ma do it to death! (uh) 

I'ma do it to death! (yeahhh...) 

I'ma do it to death! (uh) 



[Rhymefest:] 

This is the Black Civil War (war); poor vs. the poor 

Hood vs. the block, what's Down South vs. at all 

Small town vs. the big city (city) 

kinda like Pac vs. Biggie, we get to see the herds creep 

I'm the street, while the labels is thirs-TY 

Laughin and placin bets like, (ha ha) "Who gon have the biggest first week?" 

WOOOW! See James Brown bit the dust 

Everybody said, "Don't nobody speak for US!!" 

You cain't tell a nigga shit, turn the speakers up 

Get the freaks for us, light the reefer up 

All that Malcolm X {?} too deep for us 

Yeah, you right so that spells defeat for us 

Naw I'm wearin my vest, and I'm loadin my Tec 

and I'm reppin my set, WHAT DA FUCK YOU EXPECT?! BLAOW!! 



I'ma do it to death! (yeahhh...) 

I'ma do it to death! (uh) 

I'ma do it to death! (yeahhh...) 

I'ma do it to death! (uh)