| I’m the best ever, I’m the most brutal and vicious | 
| And most ruthless champion there’s ever been | 
| There’s no one can stop me, there’s never been nobody who could --- | 
| I’m Sonny Liston, I’m Jack Dempsey, there’s no one like me | 
| I’m from their cloth, there’s no one who can match me | 
| Praise be to Allah! | 
| Just jewels, no crew heavy, my inside pants lay | 
| Come packing like two machetes, one ratchet | 
| Two clubs and a mask, jumping out a green rover | 
| Niggas balling me down, that’s when I reached over | 
| Figured they ain’t got no manners, young boys round here | 
| They don’t know my status | 
| See niggas looking for a full time jack move | 
| But they don’t know, that these blades here crack dudes | 
| Give it to them quick, something like fast food | 
| Take a nigga gun like, you gon' blast who? | 
| Cinderella girl, fronting in them glass shoes | 
| Homo thug, bitch ass nigga, I smash you | 
| You mad, 'cause you rocking a shit bag, smelling like piss | 
| When it popped, ya click ran, you fucking with powerful men | 
| Come value your business, it ain’t all gravy | 
| You pussy niggas, you’se the Avon lady, fuck you | 
| We scuffle, raps and cracks, it’s a known hood hustle | 
| Through the bus stop, under the train trussle | 
| Forty five degrees, divide the block muscle | 
| Stay on your side, or get your life bubbled | 
| (We tussle, raps and cracks, it’s a known hood hustle | 
| Through the bus stop, under the train trussle | 
| Forty five degrees, divide the block muscle | 
| Stay on your side, or get your wig knuckled) | 
| Yo, I hit 'em up with the snubs, puff the bigger buds | 
| So sinister, a John Dillinger, yeah, I’ve been a thug | 
| Fire all cylinders, swing with gritty love | 
| Smooth talk, watch a moonwalk up in the club | 
| I’m like Michael Jackson without the glitter glove | 
| Go get it for sure, that’s right, a jitterbug | 
| A minister of death, came back to finish ya | 
| At the tip of the missile, a fish, you been a scud | 
| That’s right, it’s in my blood, damn, what’s in them drugs | 
| They make you spit slugs, leave marks in the floor | 
| Yo, I stomp through the yard, I march through the hall | 
| Charles Bronson them hard, Jack Johnson your jaw | 
| If I sell out, yo, I’m copping some more | 
| Get the hell out, or I’m popping the four | 
| Shell pour out, big boxes of bullets | 
| Your snotbox is bust, when I cock to the fullest | 
| We scuffle, raps and cracks, it’s a known hood hustle | 
| Through the bus stop, under the train trussle | 
| Forty five degrees, divide the block muscle | 
| Stay on your side, or get your life bubbled | 
| (We tussle, raps and cracks, it’s a known hood hustle | 
| Through the bus stop, under the train trussle | 
| Forty five degrees, divide the block muscle | 
| Stay on your side, or get your wig knuckled) | 
| Consider me pissed off | 
| Them swiners better throw in they hog trough | 
| 'Fore I blast the hot shot of Smirnoff | 
| Rhymes contrast to an airplane crash | 
| I precede the aftermath of an acid bath | 
| Take a leap from the Hyatt, and walk home bloody from a riot | 
| And still stay chubby on a diet | 
| Chicken in Michigan, get ya head crushed with a Michelin | 
| It’s obvious, the God ain’t settling | 
| Reputation and ego, buried in ghetto cathedrals | 
| Blow the Ruger, brothers wanna through rubbles | 
| Rock fight avalanches and ambushing | 
| Contaminated bitches, dirty dishes and dope pushes | 
| I dreamt plus I get a rush from a toilet flush | 
| It wasn’t us, it was Paul and his brother | 
| Uncle and four cousins, they had to die like the Dirty Dozen | 
| I guzzle punks like 22's | 
| Embezzle words and verbs, and interval avenues | 
| It’s important to be caution, click of this magnitude is remorseless | 
| We eat the fucking cake without the frosting | 
| Contents contained, shackles his splattered brain | 
| Ever since Killah Priest was ordained | 
| I’m bringing back the revelry, I had with Beverly | 
| And half of you corn niggas is greener than celery | 
| Fuck outta here | 
| We scuffle, raps and cracks, it’s a known hood hustle | 
| Through the bus stop, under the train trussle | 
| Forty five degrees, divide the block muscle | 
| Stay on your side, or get your life bubbled | 
| (We tussle, raps and cracks, it’s a known hood hustle | 
| Through the bus stop, under the train trussle | 
| Forty five degrees, divide the block muscle | 
| Stay on your side, or get your wig knuckled) | 
| My style is impetuous, my defense is impregnable | 
| And I’m just ferocious, I want your heart | 
| Praise be to Allah! |