Verse One: J-Ro

I'm the beer rational outta national

My cash flow is thick like mashed potato-oes in the gravy

Wsup wavy, thanks to my homey King Tee-la

the host wit the most, Im coast to coast like Aunt Peela

the Cowboys beat the Steelers so nigga where's my $50

boom bap to your cap if your eyes is lookin shiftee

In this game of rappin your ass will never win

and let you play b-b rickers wit Quik, Suge and Mack 10

who need to come join these words like conjunction

a friend before I bring the end to your bodily functions

when I speak I go deep, like when I'm stabbin it

You comin up empty like your Mother Hubbard's cabinet

Cause you keep comin wit rhymes guns so deeply

Example is the school of mankind niggaz so peep me

you Range-Rovin, Tommy Hil and bustin glocks

while I'm in the studio bustin lyrics in my socks

and the A-C is broken, no jokin

we got the worm witout the coke-in

the fuckin DAT machine is smokin

The pizza still aint here, we out of beer

and I think this motherfuckin engineer is a queer

and my dip is blowin up my hip whats up honey

(eh J-Ro the land lord really wants his money)

AWW shit

Chorus

Contents under pressure, contents under pressure

I hope for the best and expect the worst

get stress off my chest everytime I bust a verse

Verse Two: Tash

Ain't no describin

the way that Tash be feelin when he's vibin

be feelin like a deadly secret agent on assignment

dont fuck wit microfilms, I want the microphones and tables

that some niggaz stole while I was at a meeting wit my label

cuz Tash will rock your cradle wit the fatal rhymes that pound

put you down cuz your lyrics suck more than Divine Brown

while Im off that Royal Crown gettin party at the Atmospheric

wit the 40's and the Hennesy to get yall in the spirit

so bounce to the lyrics of the noble Likwit warrior

get the stress out or try to maintain like X and Gloria

poundin your surroundin stuffin at