[Intro: Human]
Ladies and gentlemen
I'd like to welcome you to what can only be described as...
The buttery slickness
(buttery slickness)
That is myself, and Monster Mike
(Mmhm)
The 773
The likes of which you've never, ever seen
Yo...
Yeah (take notes)

[Verse 1: Human]
This verse is like a murderous rampage
Your man stays a couple groupies short of a fanbase
These words are like portable mortars torn from a flat page
Contorted, and meta-morphed while you're drawing a sad face
Prepared to turn a daring spitter to a scaredy victim
Storyteller who can weave a longer tale (tail) than hair extensions
Beware the sickness; these 16's are not sweet
These sick beats I'm dropping are pristine, so stop beef
I...stroll to the store for a Toblerone as I joke of bros
Who had sold their souls to the foe below that don't flow as cold
I'll hopefully know of a broken code that'll coax my tone
'Till the flows that I spoke are as dope as O's from a smoking bowl
It's automatic; this multisyllabic magic
Will go and attack my baddest opponent and have him panic
His bros. will be standing static, and frozen, and rather saddened
The flows that I had to rap were as cold as the planet Saturn
That's -250°C
And lyricists this sick typically need medicine (Why?)
In order for me to put Chicago on the map
I'd have to take it off: I've already got it on my back
Started from a simple desk-and-pencil beat. Eventually
The limits we transcended had drifted into infinity
But now I'm back to make these rappers panic
Mad because my land is savage and cops will harass you if your pants are sagging
But in these trying times, I'm rhyming to inspire minds
Killing beats with tire irons, and driving down the cyanide
Lines of mine that I provide should touch the hearts of cats that's sick
Of hearing radio and being told that that's what rapping is (You better tell 'em)

[Hook]
[Monster Mike]
I'm only hoping you remember the name
And hope that you remember all them niggas are lames
I only hope that you remember my name
Cause ever since Pun died, hip-hop isn't the same. #philme
[Human]
My only hope is you remember the name
Even if you think I'm corny or considered a lame...I mean...
My only hope is you remember the name
Cause ever since Pac died, hip-hop isn't the same

[Verse 2: Human]
Well, I'll be saying "bye-bye" to these Illini consortiums
I shine bright as twilight, so I might ignore 'em
These rappers are my sons; these guys, I support 'em
My lines are so deadly, that Whitney died tryna' snort 'em
Now, every time you see me, on Youtube, or tv
I'll chuck the deuce, knock a dude's tooth loose and leaving
G, I don't have time for this. I'm libelous
I've been trying to find a niche
And spit the kind of lines that make a hymen itch
That's penetration. So sick, that I've been a patient
Since I was playing with spacemen in Charles Xavier's basement
Face it: Mr. Lucas is as gifted as mutants
Sipping the brew and getting lifted 'till he's pissing the fluids
Millions are clueless. I live to influence them to pursue it
So if I hit you, you'll be witnessing the fist of a movement
Or movement of a fist. See how I'm switching into it
And how the hater's getting pissed me from listening to it?
History's proven a chick would be dismissing a dude
Who is not as talented or rich as me. He isn't congruent
Women typically resist me 'till they hear me on tour, like
(Every line he spits to me is so atypically fluent!)
I'll be flowing in the basement, so it's so localization potent
I'm smoking this blatant flow, and then hoping the haters notice
The coldest on stages, homie. This glorious age upon me
Is dope as taking a toke, take your breath and I'll make you choke
And she's hoping I'll take it slow, but I'm known for my crazy stroke
And hey, most of my haters know that I'm bold with an angry flow
Like October of '84, I'm too cold for the radio. Yeah

[Verse 3 - Monster Mike]
Stain Gang Village nigga. I be hella' with them niggas
I ain't never new, but it's true: I be ripping niggas
On this rap, though. I get off. Are you mad, bro
Cause I be getting smoked out, and all you do is match hoes?
And all I do is smash hoes, and they be tryna brag
And you never had the swag, dude; you're a whole asshole
It's good, though.They know what it is with me, it's good, bro
No stunt, though. They know how we're coming; they're not tough, bro
Reggie Howard's not what niggas want, bro
Fuck around and let my knuckles talk to skud's nose like whaddup
Hit stains, whaddup. Get paid, whaddup. Brand name, whaddup, whaddup, whaddup
He's like my blood, so I know that he'll bust
Yeah, and whaddup, whaddup, whaddup
Joe, who told you I don't spit the best?
I just need some shit I like to spit the best, fuck you mean. (#philme)

[Hook]