Verse 1:

Check it I catch more heat than a histitic jew

You catch two thumbs down like a Matty Rich movie review

Your individuality is missing like Adam Walsh

Your image faker than the hair on Diana Ross

Too far gone inside my art form

Worshipping the ground that I walk on that's cool

But while you're being me who's being you?

I'm hot like Patra Doggystyle on all fours

End your career like Christopher Williams did Al B. Sures

Mass hysteria, malaria come to ya area

You couldn't touch my style with Hands Across America

I slaughter, spit in your water like Kidd homes

Leave you need orthoscopic surgury like Quincey Jones

Cause I can give Beverly, Demi and even Melvin Moore (more)

Van Halen, Eddie, get Ellen ready make Pauly Shore (sure)

Your new single sounds like the double dutch bust remix

Watch you collapse and die like you was River Phoenix

Me and rap go way back like LL's hairline

Nigga fuck a punch line, I write fucking punch rhymes

I'm gorgous so when I'm performing just leave your girls at home

I'm the best thing to happen to bitches since the straightening comb

When I'm up in 'em spittin' venoms I never go soft (never)

I make that pussy snap Back Back Back and Forth

Some more outtakes over B.Rich roughbreaks

I write more rhymes han Rick James makes license plates

So life every voice and sing

Cause I don't need no partner to swing

Hook:

They don't know

They don't need a partner to swing (X6)

"More cash in my hand" - Grand Puba

Verse 2:

Surrounded by more mysteries than the stone henge

Warning your friends, Chino X could make the corrinor cringe

Urinating in the audience when I perform

Biting the heads of chickens and bat