Motherfuckin, ladies and gentleman My style's rugged like Timberland When I clock lyric then women give me more love than Wimbledon My style flow local like New Jersey transit And I can't stand it And you'll need Teddy to unjam it when I cram it I'm from N-to-the-E W-A-R-K, Newark NJ got the AK When I wave bitch you better say heeyyyyyyyy I'm a Kid From the Hall I got big balls to make your pussy walls dribble in my drawers Hey boy this is the way the East coast swing it so bring it Man I told you ass Brown-er than James with the Sex Machine shit I keep the chronic patrol on the road in case you're wondering why I keep my izm Cause I smoked everybody else's shit up My style's the ultimate funk when I mic checka One two checka And I give effects to niggaz with my Black and Decker So check the, manuscript, man you flipped Put it down if you can't handle it Got a B-R-C-G, Blunt Rollers College Graduate I got a degrees in Physics on how high I can get Then next I check how many niggaz that can die from my Tec Cause the N-E-W-A-R-K is where the niggaz robbin and stealin and fuckin niggaz everyday Now Jersey's on max so pass the dutchie on the lefthand side Hide the hidash, in case we cridash, in my ride So, sliiiide, before I call the medics You can bet bitch you couldn't get fly if you were FedEx Can I, drop the funk on ya, run it on ya Strong as ammonia, smell it from here to California Cause Reggie Noble dropped that cock named Noble at Sunoco I'm better than rice and beans when I rock you ocho to ocho My music more underground than a kid at 300 XL Convertible, fuel-injected, that's why my style's well-respected I'm dope on the ridealz, so fidealz, on my didealz And chumps are wondering what two niggaz dropped the funk funk
Verbally you never heard of me I smoke you third degrees and cause surgery for emergency cause Reggie Noble's known like burglary I get hot busted when I dip my nuggets Hey, if it take a million niggaz to stop it just like Chuck did Cause we run around Newark with the nine cock Keep it heated for the brothers that's not off my block And if ya don't know the flavor, be a tough guy and enter So go show you more nigga events than Jacob Jaffrey center I'm genuine, to the rhyme, get your canines Cops that got the hot glock stocked for when it's playtime I rock around the Robin TWEET TWEET on the calendar Cause you couldn't pull my number if your class major was Algebra I make bitches moan to my Stallone without Sylvester Cause I'm more deadlier than a whole school system of investors So check us, I always smoke mad blunts before breakfast Cause I, Get Around like 2Pac with Poetic in my Justic Hold tight, hold tight, everybody hold tight I'm sooper like my man cat, cause I keep my styles jam packed I wrreerawwwowww like Anthrax, split my pants like Bill Bixby You could tell the tracks was fat from the work of my MP-60 I smoke the chronic that's why my sinus always fucked up Them bones, them bones, them bones will have you fucked up I blaze blunts with my nigga Mellow, yo say hello (Yo whattup dogg?) Really, now pass the second blunt to Quilly
Now sit your big ass down cuz I don't know about this rap stuff There wasn't rap when I was pickin cotton, sayin massa Y'all y'all whippersnappers, with the caps on backwards Man, y'all fuck around with Quilly I kick a bone out yo' ass quick Watch out now, I ain't bullshittin I representin the oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-G's from forty-three goddamnit And if you keep on with that dirty mistreatin I'm gonna whoop your ass, til your heart stop beating
And yo, chronic bubonic the funky bionic you find it I'll have to rewind it where minds are blinded Time 4 Sum Aksion so time to find it I smoked out like a cookout, look out my dick's out That was last album when I was bouncin on trains like Malcolm I was hiiiiigh, I thought I wouldn't survive That's why I quit my nine to five and got live Because this hip-to-the-hop shit fills my pockets And I'm Audi for ninety-four because I already got my props
Compositores: Al Stillman, Reginald Noble, R Alex Anderson ECAD: Obra #4457881