Verse One:

Kaboom! Guess who stepped in the room?
Lookin' like the creature from the Black Lagoon
There's gonna be a 187 real soon
If niggas up in here don't give me some elbow room
 [bad word] with the Legion of Doom
Like a pack of wild wolves foamin at the mouth on full moon
I track range between space and time
And push wigs back like receding hair lines
That's the essence of the effervescence
As this melodic dynamic [bad word] progresses
mic murderer for hire
As I sit back and watch your little gimmick image backfire
Under the circumstances in any order of events
I be with sick niggas rollin thick
Dissin the system got America mad at me
Like my name is O.J. Simpson

 [bad word]  repeat 2X

My style is all that and a big bag of chips with the dip
 [bad word] all that sensuous [bad word] 
The astronomical [bad word] through like the flu bombin you

Verse Two:

Get off the d.k. you pitty pat [bad word] 
Stepped into the party people wonderin' if I'm a start some [bad word] 
Prisoner of the media very often
Cause people be blowin little [bad word] out of proportion
False information and bogus arithmetic
Got everybody stuck on stupid, misinterpretating [bad word] 
How could I? Why should I damage my career?
Over a [bad word] that'll probably bust me out of fear
Don't let your mouth get you into somethin that your [bad word] can't get out
When I see you I'll pull your dreads out your scalp
Caution: code red
I could kill you now but instead I'm a put this thought into your head
I got the illest crew in the industry
We could go to war for 30 years like foreign countries
Yo slow your roll
Cause I don't really think you know with who you dealin

 [bad word] 

Verse Three:

Man [bad word] [bad word]  I'm gettin money
And laughin at these clown [bad word] niggas like they funny
The grand imperial with milky material
I'll be the surprise in the bottom of your cereal
One thing I gotta say my Squad never lost it
Unlike you corny MC's out there who Farrah Fawcett
Can't [bad word] your mouth all the time
While Def Squad sit back, enterprising perfect crimes
Got the Funk Lord squeezin the life out of keyboards
While each MC tear the frame out of mic chords
Yo I was in the bullpen with them niggas pullin heists
Grown [bad word] men crying like little mice, but I'mma bounce [bad word] indeed
Cause punk [bad word] police only bagged me with two ounces of weed
Now I'm back on the streets in the city lights
And all I can think about is keepin it tight