Bass thick as the chunky milk your moms drinks

Toss a lyric at my boys to see what they think

Gots to keep on rolling with a stream of consciousness because

Consistent flows of thought are what I taught for efficientness

And though opinions are important and I take my criticism

If it's unsubstantiated the middle finger's what i give 'em

Taste a sliver of the lyrics I developed in my womb

A lyrical fetus to be delivered to the public soon

Dub it fool, dub it fool, get my shit known

'Cause I'm livin' in a glass house and I want to cast a stone

Maybe Sharon will guide me with her natural instinct

Prefer the basic 'cause the complicated gets extinct

The foundation's always there and to show that I care

About the future of the music I'll use it to repair

The current condition of all the wack ass shows

And I'll end each one with a pound, bro



Left to the right with a pound... bro, so

Gimmie a pound, bro, gimmie a pound bro

Left to the right with a pound... bro, so

Gimmie a pound, bro



How'd it happen I was rapping and my brain exploded

Thought I was freestyling and I was!  I never wrote it!

If I wanna kick the lyrics off the top no one's gonna' stop me

Rock the show with a pound bro, it sounds so

Simple but the so-called lyricists

Couldn't freestyle if it came out they piss

Give me a topic and I'll rock it in an instant

Whether I sound near (or whether I sound distant)

Shouts go out to motherfucking M-W-C

And all the fools on the planet who supported me

I got too many lyrics, don't drown, yo'

End this bullshit this bullshit with a what, what?!



Check the crazy flow, from the crazy bro

Step to the stage and get beat by the lazy ho

Self-centered rhymes I'm the king of braggadocio

Grab the microphone and put the shit into motion

Always on my toes checkin' my back for backstabbers

But I'm strapped with a mic to smash a wack rapper

The hands clap I slap a fool across the face

Spray his ass with mace, eat him up and say my grace

The rhymes are woven like a tapestry in fact it's me

With the needle in my hand sewing and attacking the

Style biters rhyme reciters with the same sound

As I did last year when my peers put me down

But now they getting rave reviews and I still refuse

To believe it I achieved it last year and they makes me snooze

'95 is the year and I'm coming with a new sound so

Hurrikane, my motherfucker, gimmie a pound, bro



Left to the right with a pound... bro, so

Gimmie a pound, bro, gimmie a pound bro

Left to the right with a pound... bro, so

Gimmie a pound, bro