[Verse 1: C-Rayz Walz]
You wanna match wits?
I put a lit match to ya’ lips, after gasoline chapstick
Been to jail, but always felt school’s worse
And wrote this shit down before he heard DOOM’s verse
Even though he’s crook, took the money, ran when he finished it
Fam’s gotta eat, so we’ll reheat the dinner kid
Heroin thoughts, made him dope with the swagger
And try to go plat’ with a cheap jug of Goldschläger
Who is this kid who smoke pot in a cop’s car?
And pulled his cock out, unidentified rockstar
Summertime, catch me in the candy shop with hot bars
Cool like Keith, but his heat still Poppa Large
Hole in your chest, for a fun pass
It get you address, you gotta walk through where guns blast
Got the platinum crack or the smooth shit
More like African beads and heavy chew sticks
From a ruthless Crooklyn kid that move swift
Knock you out, leave your face right by his new piss
By himself in the crew [?]
Surrounded by fat asses, said it helped him write new shit
Move bricks, and tag his name in a taxi
Man enough to go to Target, and buy her maxis
Pad full of plot, ain’t have pockets swole
Ran with Haitian kids who would cut ya’ battyhole
Hustle and flow, mami cried ‘cause papi know
He tried to get his own wax on out, like Ralph Macchio
Thinking fast with a slow thought
On the train looking strange, his lady and his son had a mohawk
Rude girl, facing mad, fingernail Jamaican flag
Epileptic flows that had grandma shaking bad
Making dad turn over in his grave
Like ‘kiss my ass, my son won’t spit like a slave’
One or two-ish floor raps, this the first time he heard rhyme
The industry doors, had the ‘do not disturb’ sign
And that’s that shit, that’ll cause a iller kid to ride
On the Makaveli flip like Bishop yelling ‘Riverside’
You follow that? You spit like you swallow tacks
For P&J sandwiches, told cats ‘holla back
Got the gat? Yup, for ignorance we’ll all die
Which makes less sense than a large order of small fries, all rise
He lost it when he found it
Moms wouldn’t let him go to school, said he sound sick
On some calm shit, count bars like a convict
Until the time for the break then, vomit
You wanna match wits?
I put a lit match to ya’ lips, after gasoline chapstick
Been to jail, but always felt school’s worse
And wrote this shit down before he heard DOOM’s verse
Even though he’s crook, took the money, ran when he finished it
Fam’s gotta eat, so we’ll reheat the dinner kid
Heroin thoughts, made him dope with the swagger
And try to go plat’ with a cheap jug of Goldschläger
Who is this kid who smoke pot in a cop’s car?
And pulled his cock out, unidentified rockstar
Summertime, catch me in the candy shop with hot bars
Cool like Keith, but his heat still Poppa Large
Hole in your chest, for a fun pass
It get you address, you gotta walk through where guns blast
Got the platinum crack or the smooth shit
More like African beads and heavy chew sticks
From a ruthless Crooklyn kid that move swift
Knock you out, leave your face right by his new piss
By himself in the crew [?]
Surrounded by fat asses, said it helped him write new shit
Move bricks, and tag his name in a taxi
Man enough to go to Target, and buy her maxis
Pad full of plot, ain’t have pockets swole
Ran with Haitian kids who would cut ya’ battyhole
Hustle and flow, mami cried ‘cause papi know
He tried to get his own wax on out, like Ralph Macchio
Thinking fast with a slow thought
On the train looking strange, his lady and his son had a mohawk
Rude girl, facing mad, fingernail Jamaican flag
Epileptic flows that had grandma shaking bad
Making dad turn over in his grave
Like ‘kiss my ass, my son won’t spit like a slave’
One or two-ish floor raps, this the first time he heard rhyme
The industry doors, had the ‘do not disturb’ sign
And that’s that shit, that’ll cause a iller kid to ride
On the Makaveli flip like Bishop yelling ‘Riverside’
You follow that? You spit like you swallow tacks
For P&J sandwiches, told cats ‘holla back
Got the gat? Yup, for ignorance we’ll all die
Which makes less sense than a large order of small fries, all rise
He lost it when he found it
Moms wouldn’t let him go to school, said he sound sick
On some calm shit, count bars like a convict
Until the time for the break then, vomit
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