Intro:
 (laughing) Yeah  coming to you like  yeah  you know another one of those
 flavorishis  mackadoshis  sour cream and onion type flavor.

 Redman:
 I rule the world like Kurtis Blow with my afro blown
 I'm torn out the frame  drunk style stagger like Ned the Wino
 For black albino  I'm like suicide on vinyle
 The type of antidope shit you have to keep away from my nose
 And I'm the, bombest rhymer, check my steez
 My vocals are like vaginas, wet an MC's when they open
 My identities, blows facilities to ememies please test these abilities
 I'm rugged, I pack a 24 studded, karrot automatic, 45 nigga slugger
 So ring thee alarm, when your TV is on, I react freakin' to songs
 When bitches see me perform, bitches say I strickly brake vertibraes
 Bones back, chinky eyed like Japs I blow states off the map
 Just by eye contact

 Hook:
 Don't get it twisted and if you do, you best to move on move on
 "Rock, rock on" - Redman (x4)

 Erick Sermon:
 Yeah, I shut down things for the moment, what?
 Paying my does for them fake ass crews (yeah)
 Who be claimin' to be the shit y'all stop
 Gimmicks, hard core lyrics for an image
 I'm stompin' 'em the beast wompin' 'em
 Brain damage is caused, girls drop they drawers to the ground
 I be's the Effect like Wrecks, rhyme skills be shooting off like two black
 techs
 Somebody stop me I'm smoking like Mask
 Shut your mouth, he's a bad, uh, like Shaft
 The E-Double bring the dopest material, way out cosmic type
 Alcoholic whisky type funk for your sissys (word up)
 Huh, I take it to the streets, if you can't run up on my turf then get some
 cleats
 I let one nigga slide in 93, but this year, he's fuckin' history

 Hook (X4)

 Passion:
 Strick nine rules the mind on the verge of destruction
 Blood starts to boil like a lyrical combustion, eruption
 Insane no pressure no pain, niggas falling off it's strain to maintain
 They be killing me, trying to preach to me, teach to me
 I got a PHD in funkology
 You got your bachelors and your masters in the field of dramatics
 The lyrical are bringing the static from the attic, so cock your automatics
 I've had it up to here, you niggas are in danger
 You better stand clear, no hugs no love and kiss mainstream America
 They just ain't ready for this, cause I'm nice as shit
 Niggas be having fits, the Squad of Def be smacking hits after hits
 And what's goin' on in your mind I can feel it
 Tremors in the body has caused for the healin'

 Hook (x4)

 Outro:
 You know what I'm sayin'? Things is hot in the tunnel out in here you know
 what I'm sayin'? Ah, N-Y-C streets is love, it's hot in the summer, um,
 spring, winter and fall things are just lovely, sweet & sour sauce. Doin'
 this y'all feel this. I feel you