[Sound of Billiards' balls and a cue stick striking left and right]

[Opening Skit: Km.G as a Night Club chairman]
Look here Kokane
I've been knowin' you for a long time, boy
I heard you have been doin' some many rap stuff
Y'all always, you and Tha Alkaholiks is always comin' up in my place
And drinkin' up my shit, and you know, always there
I'll get... I'll get... I'll get your back, Sweet man
You know, and get me back other times
So wouldn't you do a song for me?
You know, yeah

[Song's Intro: Kokane]
Awww, that's it, on the funk
Uhh, well alright
Uhh, for the... the squares out there
That known what the time with the funk
Well, alright, ugh
We're, welcome to the Radio station funk
We're known uhh, to be uhh, people be askin' Uhh...
Will I get with their funky souls and take over their countries?
You know we gotta do that shit West Coast, California
Well, alright, ha ha ha
Uhh, they got those special players out tonight in this list uhh
They call them uhh... what's your name nigga?

[Km.G:]
West Coast

[Chorus: Kokane Chanting]
Original ones, original criminal minds
Original ones, original criminal minds, yeah
Original ones, original criminal minds
Tah tah tah tah tat tat tat tah tah

[Verse 1: Kokane]
I'm just a poor black nigga tryin' to this
Wake up, wake up to smoke the mothafuckin' homeless
No pain no gain, you can call it dope but my name is Kokane
Yo Alkaholiks, pass me the bambay
Cause I got more Hook-ups than Yave and the Ese
I got a 13-5 well, alright
Cause I gotta slang my funk at 17-5 a key
Now, what's up homes?
I be rollin' in a bucket full of birds and a mobile phone
Now, you whores might laugh
But you won't now when I'm rollin' up in 500 Rack
Cause niggaz be havin' fly chips from the crack
And you wonder why your mothafuckin' ass got jack, boy
You shouldn't have to talk shit from the start
Cause you got no bite but all bark, boy, yeah

[Chorus: Kokane Chanting X2]
Original ones, original criminal minds
Original ones, original criminal minds, yeah
Original ones, original criminal minds
Ahwww, Ahwww, Ahwww, Ahwww
Tah tah tah tah tat tat tat tah tah

[Verse 2: E-Swift]
It's the westcoast soul, representin'
Funky like George Clinton
I'm in the house like a kitchen
Say, good night, I challenge whack Emcees to a fight
Bad Emcees, I smoke your head with the ruler from the old schooler
Punch your ass like Don Shooler
Hard Core, that don't rock no soft shit
I flow like water from the faucet
Aww shit, here comes the raw shit
Back the funk up, I fit your track, I stack you for the duke up
Rough and ragged like a truck
All bite but all you're bitin' is my style
I hit the 40 Ounce and then I'll get buckwild
Check, E-Swift is a title
Yeah, I usually rock scratches with the vinyl
Peace from the Alkaholik wino
And I know, I know, I know, I know what you're thinkin'

[Verse 3: J-Ro]
This groove is so funky that is stinkin'
My Dress code is simply, Jeans and shit
I can't get in the clef cause my description don't fit
Those with clothes, left to see a fashion shows
So I sneak in the rear, hop on stage and bust souls
I'm J-Ro the Human hight
I like to rock the party 'til the twilight
Grab the girl, take her home
Hit the room and bump my shine lights on
Have no fear, I'm your Number one Bear
And you can't come here, cause who wants to play the rear?
I see too many niggaz get a brain blow out
Now, I'm headed upstream like a rainbow Trout
I refused to catch the blues in the ghetto
Now, I get paid, to bring kids to life like Jepatto
It's The Liks, baby, and we ain't goin' to get whack
So Pooh'll buy a bud, hook us up with the thick sack
So you can bark if you want to
Boy, I'm comin' in the cut with my whole mothafuckin' crew
I'm the man, you knew I came to bust the dandy Rap
So I'm funkin' in front like the Handicap
E-Swift, 187Um, Kokane and Ro
With a finger and a "F" for Darryl Gates before we go

[Outro: Cold 187Um as a Night Club Security Keeper]
Yeah, that mothafuckin' song is over
But y'all can take your drunk ass go rappin' little mothafuckin...
Aww no, no, no, you got to go home
Bitch, you got to get the hell out here
No, no, no, bit touchin' there... over there boy
No, just get, just get your ass up out here
No, no, no, all barkin' not bitin'
You can't fish eatin, aww, uhh... won't let have any...
You stupid old mothafucker...
Aww, just get your ass hole up out here
I don't have no comprehension shit, boy

[Music fades as people evacuating off the Night Club]