[Intro: Mr. S.O.S.]
Ayo fuck that. Ayo Deacon take this blunt I'm 'bout to {cough} I'm 'bout to spaz out on these motherfuckers. Sloppy Seconds

[Verse One: Mr. S.O.S.]
Yo
Where we gonna go in 2004?
Even though I set you free in 2003
Fuck around I'll make you pee in your boxers and jeans
When I reach in my backpack for a revolver machine
Yeah I said I got a backpack
And inside of it is a fat sack and a black gat
You wack rapping bullshit bitches
Oh my God!
Who would've thought a backpacker could pull your card?
And screw your broad on top of 2X4's
Earth, I'm 'bout to take over you by force
I'm taking aerial flight, making motherfuckers bury they mic
Killing all stereo types
My name is S.O.S. and yes I'm one of nicest alive
Busting nuts right in your eye
To show you where I cum from like when Phife was in Tribe
Had to bring it back cause that's the shit I like when I'm high
If you hate on me it's only cause I'm nice and you Dry
Like Canada, you amateurs let writers supply
You with the raps you speaking but my task is easy
I'ma make it cool to use the term "Wack MC" again
Rap like me and then I crack your teeth and
Then you'll think twice before biting the crack in the street again
You got jokes but you the wackest comedian
And ain't nobody laughing cause I'm jacking your beat again
But relax with the beef my friend
I ain't dissing nobody, I'm just amping the media
I'm in your girl's car scratching your CD up
With the back of my keys while she practices eating up
My dick
And when she asks me to be with her
I'ma tell her to stop talking, grab the receiver and
Pump, pump, pump, pump, pump me up

[Verse Two: Deacon or Natti]
Yo are you ready for the j-j-j-j-jump off?
Catch you slipping some of my peoples and they cut off
Cause we trying to do it like Donald Trump and floss
Y'all are fucking rodents like Sherman Klump's boss
Lil' hamster ass nigga be chilling in the whirl pool
The girl handling more nuts than squirrel food
Dude I'm pimping I oughta get some curls
Got the new sounds and we bout to hit the world soon
Boom is the blue
Gone off from green leaves
These Florida trees got we feeling the sea breeze
When I'm high, love dimes settle for nines
When I'm drunk I'll settle for three threes at one time
So I put the bottle down, picked up a sack player
Roll a big fat flamer, peep the track slayer
Possessed in battles, you better attach [?]
[?] I Southernplayalisticaddilac flavor
Not with Jack Hannah but dogs, cats and gators
They in the fact hate us coming for back breakers

[Verse Three: Deacon or Natti]
Keep hearing niggas talking 'bout they coming with straps
Coming with clips
Slowly just seem to keep coming they [?]
Dick suckers with Lewinski hips
Not available for hire cause they strictly tips
Young astrologists niggas, taking up space
Easy Back Oven, niggas bragging 'bout cakes
Reaching for tag of the back of they jean waist
Bluffing to save face, did nothing and gave chase
I'ma go find him the pastor to save Ma$e
Bless him with the truth, undress him for the youth
Stop him from spitting like he got weapons in the booth
War of the Worlds rep, gotta be a spoof
Next thing you spit nigga oughta be your tooth
Pulling your X-File bitch, gotta see the truth
Golden Glove love from cats with no paws
Knowing they declawed
Betting a few ways, kicking the [?]
Why I need heart I can just keep y'alls
Coward ass nigga