as a matter of fact, I smack a back of the style, jackets are now
 mellow minced, defeatin the mental
 And become Gentle as Ben, but then they stibble and dribble
 and bend like a pencil
 The only utensil I got, is brain power
 And you know it's essential I rock, I rain showers
 sleet snow and raise hella eyebrows with my styles
 You're wondering how wild
 When what where, made ladies so horny
 they can't even be showin they butt bare
 Look up there, beside the birds the planets the hawk
 the rappers who talk the mo' shit
 I'm makin em walk the plank they stank I'm takin they rank
 they tossed tiddlewinks I'm playin em like that game
 I'm gunnin and rackin and packin em up
 and I'm runnin this here rap thang
 Main, you wanna go to war, I'll take you
 I physically break you, when I break through
 I'm makin you fake crew, you made a mistake fool
 I hate you MC's, I'll grate you like cheese
 I may choose to squeeze, my pencil
 And write out a couple of rhymes
 Whooooaaaa, whooa my goodness!!!
 Are we slaughterin, is this just slaughter MC night?
 Or somethin man, what is this?
 Is this all the aggression you ever had?
 How many MC's must get ripped, before By says don't flip with the Gift
 You know? That's what I'm talkin bout
 How many MC's must get dismissed
 Before somebody says, don't trip with the Gift
 *laughter*
 You know, it's all good
 KP and SloganMasters in the house, the Cheezit Terrorist
 And we chillin at 90.3 we got thirteen minutes left
 And then we got Brenda Short, and her records