[Kool Keith] + (Nancy)
Yeah, Kool Keith!
I'm a guest star on this record (that's right)
Y'all can bring your best cars (uh-huh)
And bring your best stars (yeah)
And add on your guest stars

My lyrics tear another asshole through New York (uh-huh)
Your fiancee's anus, burn you like jalapenos
You know I'm the center of the city famous
I'll sign your autograph, one plus two equal three
MC's battle on the graph
You run out West and try to join Aftermath
I'm Jimmy Nash, hit you with a truck insurance cry whiplash
Sign another whackie, that's blackie, from the packy
Down South to North Cakalakie, whack negro, don't talk~!
You laugh, face like Larry Fishburne, face full of acne
You can't mack G, you can't act B, move out get off the D
Watch the open toilet, aim the pee
Y'all play tight D, who's the man? One monkey
Y'all tryin to copy nobody want it sloppy
I roll with real guys, and then barely enough gas
I roll up in a jalopy, you don't want it

[Nancy Des Rose]
Lyrical magical flows, to' it fro from my vocals
I can choose to curse you or bless you
Because the power of life and death is in the tongue
But I'm not gonna stress you who are the few
Suck on some plastic surreal virtual reality
Can't see past your Mac lip gloss as if all that's gonna last
You're like glass, I can shatter your superficial reality
I come with the real cause I chill
I don't deal my soul for any kind of dope
You should have a little bit of faith
Like my mustard seed that grew into a big tree
I fed all my people and paid all my bills, I don't lose focus
I don't affiliate with, any kind of hocus pocus, or any abracadabra cats
I'm a highly gifted female, kickin verbal scriptures in your ear
You superficial people, when you gon' wake up?
That's right, when you gon' wake up, you superficial people
Livin in the darkness, you have eyes but you can't see
You have ears but you don't understand
You superficial people livin in a plastic world
You superficial people clones of the media
Blindin fools, you're gonna lose, you do what you wanna do
You think this world is gonna last? No one cares about your ass
No one cares about your Mark Jacobs watch or your Versace bag
Because in the end you're the fool who made that man's account fat
Stop trippin on your, material goods
That Moss can rot, rust covers with dust, treasures that thieves can steal
Today I'm in your ear like a camel goin through the eye of a needle
You'll never fit, because you're still trickin tricks
They got you locked down in a debt control boot
Can't pay cash for all those Santa Claus goodies you got on Fifth Avenue
You haven't paid your dues, you're not rich and free
You're just a media clone, you superficial people
When you gon' wake up? Yeah, when you gon' wake up?