Inflation of the blunt rhymes calls for infiltration of the

Front lines, eat a punk like pork rinds

Roll trashy emcees up, puff and pull another toke out

Stomp 'em out like the great american smoke out

I vote against another weeded emcee

Next one I see will be a bleeding emcee

Intensified, I blow up the wack

Fools, make a narcoleptic an insomniac.

"Mom he's fat, mom he's fat, let me buy his tape!"

Ten years from now Showbiz'll dig in my crates

'Cause all the dope breaks i have in my room

Japanese bamboo flute?  

Damn, didn't think I would have it

Now every other DJ out there is gonna' grab it

Or give me some records to sample, I don't need those

Cool wit me though, my shit's tight like Speedos



Pick up the pieces, puzzle pieces, check the new releases

Ask what the stink is, it's me, I'm the shit like feces

I need these rhymes and metaphors

'Cause like Kool Keith said I'll make 'em better for

The break beats I use to fuse with

Kids 'cause they did, pop the fucking lid

Competition has expired like milk in your mama's fridge

You ain't a soap opera, so stop all the drama, kid

Jump out the box like a mug named Jack

Named after what your rhymes are worth, you worthless mack

I got stacks of new material

The inferior will try to get to the interior

Inside I keep the secret laboratory

Like Mad Professor I guess the scrolls are on the second story

Don't bore me with wack production

I will call for destruction shit's tight like stuffing



Shit's tight like a virgin, you heard men screaming

Possessed by the demon out of Jersey you heard me

With the on-and-off drums, I come correct

Like Alex Trebec catching wreck like a broke neck

Double metaphors affecting how I'm mic checking

One, two, as if I couldn't count

Bounce like a fat check or a fat chick on a trampoline

I trample fiends who deem it necessary to bury bones

Of the skeletons in my closet

I had the beat and lost it

Frost it like a cake with the flavor of the month

Tell me what you want... tell me what you want, don't front

I'll bring you what you desire with no perspire-ation

But I'll lose patience if you ask for G-Funk

Fuck the P-funk, I'm coming with the elephant trunk

Of rhymes for your ass, you better catch it hold your mitt tight

Shit's tight, shit's tight, the shit is tight