To Mario C, you can′t front on that!

Well, just plug me in just like I was Eddie HarrisYou're eating crazy cheese like you would think I′m from Paris

You know I get fly, you think I get high

You know that I'm gone and I'mma tell you all why

So tell me who are you dissin′, maybe I′m missin'

The reason that you′re smilin' or wildin′, so listen

In my head, I just want to take 'em down

Imagination set loose and I′m gonna shake 'em down

Let it flow like a mud-slide

When I get on, I like to ride and glide

I've got depth of perception in my text, y′all

I get props at my mention ′cause I vex, y'all

So what′cha, so what'cha, so what′cha want? ('cha want?)

I get so funny with the money that you flaunt

I said, "Where′d you get your information from, huh?

You think that you can front when revelation comes?"

Yeah, you can't front on that

Well, they call me Mike D, the ever-loving man

I'm like Spoonie Gee, well, I′m the metropolitician

You scream and you holler about my Chevy Impala

But the sweat is getting wet around the ring around your collar

But like a dream I′m flowin' without no stoppin′

Sweeter than a cherry pie with Reddi Whip toppin'

Goin′ from mic to mic, kickin' it wall to wall

Well, I′ll be calling out to people like a casting call

Ah, well, it's wack when you're jacked in the back of a ride

With your know, with your flow, when you′re out getting by

Believe me, what you see is what you get

And you see me, I′m coming off as you can bet

Well, I think I'm losing my mind, this time

This time I′m losing my mind, that's right

I said I think I′m losing my mind, this time

This time, I'm losing my mind

Yeah, you can′t front on that

But little do you know about something that I talk about

I'm tired of driving, it's due time that I walkabout

But in the meantime, I′m wise to the demise

Got eyes in the back of my head so I realize

Well, I′m Dr. Spock, I'm here to rock, y′all

I want you off the wall, if you're playing the wall

I said what′cha, what'cha, what′cha want (what'cha want)

I said what'cha, what′cha, what′cha want (what'cha want)

Y′all suckers write me checks and then they bounce

So I reach into my pocket for the fresh amount

See, I'm the long leaner Victor the Cleaner

I′m the illest motherfucker from here to Gardena

Well, I'm as cool as a cucumber in a bowl of hot sauce

You′ve got the rhyme and reason, but got no cause

But if you're hot to trot, you think you're slicker than grease

I′ve got news for your crews, you′ll be sucking like a leech

Yeah, you can't front on that

So what′cha, what'cha, what′cha want (what'cha want)

So what′cha, what'cha, what'cha want (so what′cha want)

I said what′cha, what'cha, what′cha want (what'cha want)

I said so what′cha, what'cha, what′cha want (so what'cha want)