[Intro - L.]
This shit
Hit me off!
Shit, dafuq man [Vocal Sample 1]
Yeah, for those who don't know, word up
Hilltop, all day everyday, ya'mean?
F.A.G.C [Vocal Sample 1]
L-Fly, J-Funk, my man Black Spade keep it up

[Verse 1 - L. Fly]
Okay, now who this MC is crossing niggas up like Jesus
Blowing through crews like breezes
The Fahrenheit teases the nose of the hoes that sweat me
The microphone is sparked when you let me
Loops on the instrumental, some find it detrimental
To even fuck with the L. because I'm way too mental
For that average shoot 'em up bang-bang murder type of shit
That's when I like to get, deep in my trick bag, so I can zig-zag on your crew's ass
You get in who's ass?
MC's, run for cover when this lyrical fall out
When L. got the mic and convinced to go all out
On all MC's that lack skills and talent
You niggas couldn't serve me because your efforts wasn't gallant
You way past this, so take ya last glimpse
Of life as you know it cause you in past tense
My style sets the precedent, and those that testin' it
Will get crushed in my path of dead presidents
Ya whole flow needs to be refined
So why don't you back off mine
And relax ya mind

[Hook]
Vocal Sample 2 [Gwen McCrae, Funky Sensation]:
Take your time, relax your mind
Vocal Sample 1 [BDP, My Philosphy]:
(Murder) Let us get back to what we call Hip-Hop

4x

[Verse 2 - L. Fly]
Be on the lookout for a brother last seen in music
He's got a deadly rhyme and ain't afraid to use it
Proceed with caution, or you'll get lost in
The message and the lyrics, that he's been tossin'
This brother got skills to break wills of any lesser man
Yo Russel Simmons couldn't even make a deafer jam
Yo get that mic up kid, ayo you know who next
I'm not commercial but I'm freakin' on a solo flex
Here comes the sure-shot, skills is what the boy got
Step into the L. don't step in that because I toy not
Doin' somethin' funky at the drop of my hat
Not the type to react with a knife or a gat
I'm droppin' rhymes feeble minds couldn't comprehend
I ain't from Compton and I ain't down with stompin' men
I like to crush MC's, mind, body and spirit
Quench a niggas thirst wit this 40oz of lyrics
And it don't stop

[Hook - L. talking in background]

[Verse 3 - J. Funk]
I got you pumped like gas, you don't know the half
Of the shit I kick and now your girls on wit
Cause I'm milky, smooth like butter or chocolate
You got split styles fat like tits
Wit the boom from Uzi's and bang from the 9 when I rhyme
Whores call me father like Don or just Papa
Known as the MC stoppa, niggas can't see me, so niggas wanna be me
Like Jordan, check out the gear that I'm sportin'
Jeans be saggin', tongues be braggin'
Funky-ave in '95 for the mental
Shut the fuck up and don't say shit, like an instrumental
Then you'll, know who stealed the show
It's the freestyle fanatic wit the wicked ass flow
Surprise, now guess the hell what now whore I'm peekin'
I take yo' ass out like the weekend
Relax ya mind

[Hook - L. talking in background]

[Vocal Sample 1 throughout]