Fright Night Kool Keith (Ft. Flavor Flav & H-Bomb)

[Flavor Flav]
I can't hear nuttin though
Alright, where you want me to start at?
Aiyyo you can kill the music then
Yo, check one two, check one two in the place to be
From the bottom to the T-O-P
That's right, Flavor Flav, Public Enemy
From Bronx to L.A., we don't fail
Kickin right here for 7th Veil
My man Kool Keith, H-Bomb, no jive
Yo, H-Bomb, hit 'em in the head son

[H-Bomb]
No blazes, tennis shoes and denim
Pimp I got the gators, leathers I kill 'em
Your bullshit events, don't play right
No tribute awards for Mr. Barry White
It's Guantanamo Bay, industry's gay
Hard to get rich, I don't swing that way
That switch to funny make record in Kingston
Jesus is black, tell Mel Gibson
Who wears a skirt, Sting and Dave Navarro
My strap, my money, don't lend, don't borrow
The Sunset Strip is Gaza Strip
Your clothin line is shit, H is fuckin sick!
The rap game industry too quiet
Hehehehehe hah hah Atkins Diet
No backpackers pro-athlete actors
I rep for pimps, pushers, jackers
The P on the fitted I'm all for pimps
I throw ropes down for my niggas in the clink (yeahhhh boy!)
First and foremost, the industry don't want it
Fuck it, I take what I want and flaunt it
I'm not vexed, they spend for sex
Who's next after Michael, fuck Funkmaster Flex