Verse 1: T-Daddy Stacks

Yo DJ, spin that shit homie
Yo, everybody know me
T-Daddy Stacks mother fucker
Yo check it
T-daddy Stacks, is the best
Check it
You know what's funny?
I don't get mad
Son, I get even that's a habit I have
Early fucking morning when the ink hit the pad
Writing dope shit's another habit I have, check it
Pull a fucking rabbit out the hat
Trump its a trick when I'm tricking on the flow yo
Everybody know that, except that
Everybody don't know that I pack a Gat
Rat-a-tat-tat when the heater in your face
I'm cruising in my low-low, son you feel the bass
Yo punk stay in your god damn place
Plus I've got a gun named 'just in case'
Just in case your punk ass get out of line
When I start to rhyme then I start to shine
You be the minus, I'll be the plus sign
Smoke on the pine, stoned as fuck feeling blurred
Fly so damn high like a motha fuckin' bird
Word is born and T-Gunnz is preferred but
T-Daddy Stacks is the name unheard
But damn son, I go unheard no more
When I hit the mic you hear my fuckin' roar
If you're hardcore you'll understand my concept
And go crazy like a motha fuckin' bomb threat
Stacks a champ, I get the pussy wet
I usually go for blondes
But your girl brunette
I eat pussy up, like a french baguette
So don't forget, that my rhymes get you going
On my death bed be the day I stop flowing
Never knowing when I'm swooping into attack
So yeah chump you better pick up the slack
Cause when I come through I fuckin' wreck the track

Verse 2: Q-Bone

I'm out for presidents to represent me, get my word out
I'm done with this dinner bitch, get my dessert out
Serving up three course meals, hope you're ready for seconds
Serving up three course beats, it's best you get to stepping
Your girls got me on to her, she want some milk chocolate
Take her back to the crib, close the door and lock it
And what's done there are things of unspeakable measures
And what's been to her are things of unspeakable pleasures
I've been called the lyrical pimp from time to time
Other rappers pay good money to use my rhymes
Can't hate on them though all the good lyrics are mine
Just like the sun in the sky, it's clear that we shine
When I say we, I'm not alone though, other rappers in the booth
Spittin rhymes and lines, it's not strictly Bone so
Kim Possible, what's the sitch?
(Joe Grizzly:) it's Joe Grizzly Bitch!

Hold on Daisy, if you're looking for some kind of trouble
You better take it on the arches, before I'm done dropping this load
Verse 3: Joe Grizzly

Joe Grizzly remix
Suck on my penis
All you dirty mother fuckers
Jealous of my cleanness
Damn girl, hey there, excuse me miss
You a fine chocolate ho
Give me a Hershey kiss
Oreo threesome, and I am in the middle
Chewin on that pussy like a piece of peanut brittle
I play it like a fiddle
Complex like a riddle
I'm colder than the ice man, call me Chuck Liddell
Bitch I've got a tan, skin colour like copper
Yeah I make it spicy like a jalepeno popper
Swagger so improper, pass the eye dropper
Best mustache ever, American Choppers
I'm trying to run the world
Call me Donald Trump
Eat so many rappers gotta get my stomach pumped
Wake up in the middle of the night and hear a thump
Life is such a box of chocolates; Forrest Gump
Got my mind on my money, my corn on the cob
Took a bite out of that Apple, Rest in peace Steve Jobs
He's on his iCloud listening to his iPod
Breathing Macbook Air, the man was an iGod