Redbull

RZA came and got me, this what I came to do, come on

Ring the bell so it's time to eat

Brick Dog stash weed inta AMI-seats

Bomb isdide the palm

Doc rock a wifebeater with me beatin my wife ass iron dawn

The font of my appartment built like the Klumps

To carry it I take the spear out the trunk

I stay hungry, I ain't worked for days

That's why you see the pump when the curtains raise

Blast! Don't panic

Do I gotta explain how I tame and lock the rapgame single-handed?

Hell nah! I won't tell you son

If I find a wack ID I sell you one

Doc and Hot Nick, Inspectah

My lecture's like Hannibal Lecture's

Where's the ketchup?

Don't speak on it, shut ya trap

I see ya whole crew yellow like mustardpacks

Ah woo, Doc in my own zone

You say you got the rapgames on, but it's all wrong

I ride through ya hood in a Mr. Softy-truck

Then pull a Mack out a box and smoke hoes

Yeah, ya little fucks

Gimme ya fucking money!

Uhuh, check it

I'm hotter than a hundred degrees with my coat on

Playing with a dynamitestick, where did I go wrong?

Somebody pull the fire along when Jonny stomp

If ya lukewarm leavin ya clothes and boots torn

Pro's and con's, megabomb's and so-on's

By arid actions try MC's to get their roll on

First issue got issues

What is hiphop to Hot Nickles

It's like Funk Docter's snot tissues, word

Look at my hand and get the third

Finger out ya earhole like: Fuck what you hear

Now that's what I call harcore, let's act fool

Mr. Fix-It like Handyman I pack tool

I been shitty, I'm from the veils of the city

And just because my outfit match don't make me pretty

Baggy Dun Gurees, dick need room to breathe

In a room full of crackers I might cut the cheese

Ain't no rules to the game, if it hit we ain't planned

In your business like EPMD So What You Sayin'

You codesignin that bullshit yo man tryin

Chaka chaka cha-ta tatat!!

Slugs flyin

Yo, ya

Check, the code echos from magazines to the big screen

Fo' wheel machines like ya wits scream

Kids fiend from the urban to sub-urban

Roll upon me thirstin like: Hey, hey, Mister Dream-Merchant

We roll longer than dice in a casino

Silo in the 4, 5 or 6 with double 0

Behind the tinted windows I lay low

On some hydro tryin to slide from the 5-0

But now I get wild similar to Ol' Dirty

On third time fellon just hit with over 30

No worries, style have em so thirsty

First degree heats are quittin on me

Cold turkey, no mercy

I bring the pain of a hundred migraines

But a thousand shoutin my name that's why I came

But first bring the cashburst, then the outburst

My surroundsound pound ya ear like ... curse

I flex muslce outside I find a next hustle

Trouble with ya here and face the TEC-muscle

Even the best buckle win

I take it to the exteme

It gets ugly, but it's what a nigga do to get cream

This life