Tekster: U-God. Dopium. Lipton.

(feat. Mike Ladd)

[U-God:]
Yo, yo, magnificent high score, master plan, the crowd roar
Throw up daily dosage, get ready for the down pour
Human cannonball, matador, standing next to door
Battle ya'll, sound more, get ready for the round four
Ground war, jigsaw, bearhug, bearclaw
Slimeball, crime bosses, you better count your losses
Dark lord, divorce court, hot sauce, the pen glide
Then fly, Bangkok, Chinese, Shanghai
Red wine, fed time, bring crime, the cake rise
Take mines, break spines, watch for them snake eyes
Break ties, shake thighs, watch how them dollars flow
Scholar's home, monotone, crush 'em on they collarbone
Cyclone, you styrofoam, up against the Wu brand
Big gun to hold it, it's gonna take two hands
Check the newstand, I'm running with the Manual
Flammable, animals, call me a dynamo
Hannibal on elephants, got you in a stranglehold
Black man legal Gambino and my bangles gold
Hand in the finger bowl, your face is on my chrome gauge
Strapped with a bomb, gonna blow you to the Stone Age

[Chorus: Mike Ladd]
Woo ooh, ooh ooh, ooh ooh, ooh ooh, ooh ooooh
Ay, ay, the way she shake it
Ay, ay, I can't take it
Ay, ay, the way she take it
Ay, ay, I can't shake it

[U-God:]
Yo, ever ready wordplay, conscious survey
Mountains fall crumble, impact your chestplate
Heavyweight, ankles swing, therapy Bowflex
Snowman, gold kid, melt you in your vortex
Raw sex vibe, ultraviolet on the sex drive
Forty five wives, new silent with my tech nines
Respect mine in chalk line, smash for your drama talk
Backflips, somersault, chopped by the tomahawk
Pop off, mozoltov, stung by the voodoo
Old school, new school, invest like the Jews do
Your broke ass, no class, broadcast on YouTube
Fake boobs, handjobs, state troops to damn slobs
Hate you, fuck off, hate you with duck sauce
Feathers get, plucked off, when I cough with ink dust
Linked up, inked up, strokes from the paintbrush
Go for your taste buds, shrooms and I stay buzzed
Music for your forehead, smashed on your horse face
Wu on the warhead, crash through your tourgates

[Chorus]

[Hook: Mike Ladd]
Scott knocks, is on the ball
Let's rock, she love the boss
Oh god, she loves the mutt
Jump up, and go for my mine
It's so deep, you get cross-eyed
Take that heat, and roll outside
Black handprints on the wall
Black handprints on the wall

[Chorus]

[U-God:]
I say I'm pimping, bitches on kneepads
Lipton, sipping the tea bag