Meet the mic controller the Philly roller the wicked one Sun rude bwoy come rhymes off top the head Said what I said and did what I did Never catch another bid create rubbers and slid I'm out of there ghost evaporate vanish Callate la voca if need be I'm Spanish No habla ingles police ask questions I don't know nuttin ain't nuttin happening, stop stressing I'm headed down the alleyway With the Smith on my hip, shank in my hand, who's the man You won test, who me? I think you better back up and chill, G Don't make me mad boy, don't even try Eyah got skills, eyah smoke mad thai You steppin to a brother who been through it all My freestyle is wild you nah won test my yes y'all You think you got flavor to match? You can get a smack for that, black
Chorus
Verse Two:
Nobody can do it You runnin out of gas Sun, leakin much fluid I'm hungry like Jack two inches away from a Big Mac Then BUCK BUCK BUCK Take that witcha on the way down, so you don't feel the ground When you hit, and your head splits, fuck all that bullshit It's hectic, respect it, the dialect, I come Original, the intellect, refuses to tongue twist So don't tell me naythan Me have a champion style, hardcore with a taste of Jamaican You steppin to the wrong one the Nine is the seed of Jesus I get loose on ninety proof Fatter than a bubble goose, unpredictable You never know what I'm going to say after I say What I say when I say what I say when I play, next?!? There it is, who you won test
Interlude:
The deceased resented the fact, and told him off in no uncertain terms He still kept coming, he identified himself, and then drew his revolver
Chorus
Verse Three:
Cream of the crop nonstop hip-hop Funky stuff rough enough to, break up the handcuffs Scuff a cream puff like an old pair of boots When the Nine millimeter shoots the gift I was born with Who's that, with the booby trap, poisoning rap With the wack bullcrap, we can't have that Shut him down, I'm underground And if my sound hits the airwaves of pop, it'll still be hip-hop No samples from Barry Manilow Strictly Timbo, you know, the whole 40 below That's how I'm rollin in the Nines Nine-Five, Nine-Six, Nine-Seven to get mines
Outro:
Yeah I'm sending this out to all you bigmouth Knucklehead suckers that was talkin all that garbage I am the man, who you won test, punk?
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