Well, I got more bounce to the fuckin´ bump and
Then you want to know why it´s ´cause I´m motherfuckin´ truckin´

I´m in the pocket just like Grady Tate
I got supplies of beats so you don´t have to wait
´Cause I´m the master blaster drinking up the shasta
My voice sounds sweet ´cause it has to
So light a match to my ass ´cause I´m blown up
I´d like to thank the people for just showin´ up
But now I want y´all to move it
Put your point on the floor and just prove it
And I´m smurfin´ not rehearsin´ gettin´ live y´all
A little puffy so you now what I´m doin´ right
´Cause that´s the kind of mind I´m in
I got a feelin´ that´s back again
So don´t touch me ´cause I´m electric
And if you touch me you´ll get shocked!

You´ve got the boomin´ system but it´s blasting out doo-doo

You think it´s chocolate mild but it´s watered down yoo-hoo
I´ve been through many times in which I thought I might lose it
The only thing that saved me has always been music
We´ve got our own studio the son of the G
It´s no question life´s been good to me
´Cause life ain´t nothing but a good groove
A good mix tape to put you in the right mood

This one goes out to my man the groove merchant
Coming through with beats for which I´ve been searching
Like two sealed copies of expansions
I´m like Tom Vu with yachts and mansions
The logo I sport is the face of the monkey
Union made Ben Davis quality it´s no junk see

My chrome is shining just like an icicle
I ride around town on my low-rider bicycle

So many wack M.C.´s you get the T.V. bozack
Ain´t even gonna call out your names ´cause you´re so wack
But one big oaf whose faker than plastic
A dictionary definition of the word spastic
You should have never started something that you couldn´t finish
´Cause writin´ rhymes to me is like popeye to spinach
I´m bad ass move your fat ass ´cause you´re wack son
Dancin´ around like you think you´re Janet Jackson
Thought you could walk on me to get some ground to walk on

I´ll pull the rug out from under your ass as I talk on
I´ll take you out like a sniper on a roof
Like an M.C. at the fever in the D.J. booth
With your headphones strapped you´re rockin´ rewind pause
Tryin´ to figure out what you can do to go for yours
But like the pencil to the paper I got more to come
One after another you can all get some
So you better take your time and meditate on your rhyme
´Cause your shit´ll be stinking when I go for mine
And that´s right y´all don´t get uptight y´all
You can say shit because you´re biting what I write y´all

And that´s wrong y´all over the long haul
You can´t cut the mustard when you´re fronting it all