Yo man, I′m hungry man

Hey, what u want man?

You want some breakfast or something?I want a lil' something, yeah

Yeah, milk and cereal or something?

Something man, just a little breakfast food, ya know?

Mm, I don′t know man, let's see what I got in my cabinet

Hold on, let me see what I got in my cabinet

Somebody hit me with a little, baseline or groove, know whatmsayin'?

Yeah, breakfast food, uh

When you wish (when you wish)

Upon a star (upon a star)

To follow what? (to follow what?)

And where you are (and where you are)

Party over here, party over there (where?)

Look, I made ya look, ya dirty crook

Then picked your pocket, watch me book

Like Guinness I′m a menace, so call me hip-hop′s Dennis

So open wide, and say (ah)

And I'ma slide my yolk, in your throat, and watch ya choke

On the uh the ah the uh the daddy long-stroke

Stroke Long Daddy Money, if my name was Sunny

I′d share a scoop, runnin' shit like Rebels

You can call me Barney, ′cause I took your Fruity Pebbles

Dibble like an office on Top Cat, top that, I'm fat troop

Drop the loop, then a scooper hoop ya like a hula

To school a fool I present, a church to repent

I get you Guess′n like jeans, you're just a hill of beans

I'm all that jazz, and I kick, kick, kick, kick

The razzmatazz oh please, oh please just give me just one more blast

I get off like Prince, but I don′t have to show my ass

Pass the rest, like a test, if you slip then you′ll get ripped

With your handicapped pass route, and Tales From the Crypt

I whip on that ass like base babe

The Sense is good-goobley-goo, ask Gravy

Or LaMont, or Rollo, down at the, Apollo

Come follow me now (Bo, where's Sue?) I don′t know

Even En Vogue, be tellin' me ya don′t go

When it's time for show (yes) everyone says

Ho (ho) ho (ho) couldn′t be a slider

'Cause I never slip, kick it like a Damme Van flip

So don't come with your judo, ′cause you′re just a Menudo

Emcee gettin' chewed like vegetables

A cabbage is a cabbage, a lettuce is a lettuce

I′ma tear this whole joint into scraps

I bust raps, perhaps caps, and trap the wack tracks

Givin' the max, for the minimum, not the minimum for the max

Get more sex than Wilt the Stilt so you can call me the Stiltest

You′re takin' shorts like Arnold, so what chu talkin bout, Willis?

′Bout Willis? (yeah, Willis)

Willis ain't talkin' about nothin′

It′s Different Strokes

Let's get back to um, breakfast foods

Because it′s, early in the mornin'

Well you can have your Wheaties

You can have your Flakes

You can have your Kix

And you can have your Trix

You can have your Pound cakes

You can have your Loops

But you still gotta get your Two Scoops

To keep the hot raw, I′m rollin', rollin′

Bowlin' spare me, fuss ya hushed mouth mush

Lush alcohol's excessive like a Jefferson

Movin′ on up, progressive

One time for your brain, cell

And when I get through, you say, aw hell man

Styles that I free won′t, stop 'til the end

Paper I go on and go on with the pen

Get a max of funk, attack or sunk

One blow, and emcees are gone with the wind

Kickin′ the dumber rhyme, I'm not a print

But I′m fresh, heatin' up like the summertime, summer rhyme

I′m a dime a dozen, but I keep you buzzin'

Like a bee, a dozen attempts is in the toilet

'Cause I flush the dime and I′m not a Leader

′Cause I Busta Rhyme, a rhyme

If I kick with Rakim, you Run For Cover brother

But I kick it with Petey cause I'm just another mother (sucker)

Blo′ Pop time (it's Blo′ Pop time)

It's Blo Pop time (it′s Blo' Pop time)

In the mix, the dimension, J.B., and Chico

It's seven, not six, my shirt extra-large

But I wear, I wear I wear it well like DeBarge

To the finish, makin′ ya eye pop, like you ain′t spinach

Then it's, time to let you know

We count it up, one two three and fo′

Count it up

Nah we gon' count it down

Nah man, we′re gonna count it up

Mm, let's get back to that food tip though

The breakfast tip (food tip? Well you just check)

′Cause you know what we need

What can I have?

You can have your Life

You can have your Bran

You can have your Puffs

You can have your Pebbles

You can have your Krunch

And you can have your Loops

But you still gotta get your Two Scoops

Around and round and upside down and upside down we go

Whoa, I'ma sneak in the front row

Not Jethro, I'm not a Jethro, on skid row

I don′t wear Monie′s hat, but I was a monkey in the middle

Hey diddle diddle, you can Kibble a Bit

I take a squat, and booty M-C's be sayin′ oh shit

Yo, I turn Bucktown into Fucktown

You're just a field goal kid, and I′m a touchdown

With the next point to the next joint, so tell Spike about it

I'm all that, that your bitch be writin′ home about it

Shout it out, praise the Lord, hallelujah

This could be love, but um, don't let em fool ya

'Cause when I do ya, come down come down after me come

Yeah sorry Sugar Plums but um, I gotta run

Run Jesse Run, keep hope alive

I′m down with the B-boys, fuck the Jackson 5

You jive-ass turkey, a-pit-apitta-a-aperk be

You can get ill, but don′t, hurt me, hurt me

Or urk me, cause see I'll outsmart you like the Urkel

B-boys at the school of hard knocks, in a circle

Pass the sess blunt, yeah stud, you ain′t know?

I want to go bang, I said, bang-o, bang-oh bang-oh

Or bojangle jingle jangle on the jaw

Hip-hip, hooray, oh now you want to be all lovable?

Don't push or pull, or you′ll see, I'ma wreck it out

MC′s be checkin' in but they don't be checkin′ out

I leave em out on the canvas

So click your heels twice and take your ass back to Kansas