Verse One:

You wanna front, what?
Jump up and get bucked
If you're feeling lucky duck
Then press your luck
I snatch fake gangsta MC's and make em [bad word] flambe
Your nine spray, my mind spray
Malignant mist steadily pumps the funk
The results you're a gang stuffed in a car [bad word] You [bad word] to the jungles of the East poppin that game
You won't survive get live catchin wreck is our thing
I don't gang bang or shoot out bang bang
The relentless lyrics the only dope I slang
I'm a [bad word] master you can check my credentials
Cuz I choose to use my infinite potentials
Got a freaky, freaky, freaky-freaky flow
Control the mic like fidel castro locked cuba
So deep that you can scuba dive/my jive
Origin is unknown like the Jubas
I've accumulated honies all across the map
Cuz I'd rather bust a nut then bust a cap in
Ya back in fact my rap snaps ya sacroilliac
I'm the mack so i don't need to tote a Mac
My attack is purely mental and its nature's not hate
It's meant to wake ya up out of ya brainwashed state
Stagnate nonsense but if you persist
You'll get ya snotbox bust you press up on this
I flip hoes dip none of the real niggas slip
You don't know enough math to count the mics that I ripped
Keep the Dirty Rotten Scoundrel as his verbal weapons spit

Verse Two:

Real rough [bad word]  shine like a gold nugget
Every time i pick up the microphone i [bad word] it
Unplug it on chumps with the gangsta babble
Leave your nines at home and bring your skills to the battle
You're rattlin' on and on and ain't sayin nothing
That's why you got snuffed when you bump heads with Dirty Rotten
Have you forgotten, i'll tap you [jaw]
I also kick like kung fu flicks [bad word] run shaw
Made frauds bleed every time I g'd
Cuz i've perfected my [bad word] style like sam seed
Pseudo psychos i play like Michael
Jackson when i'm bustin [bad word] and breakin backs
Inhale the putrified aroma
Breathe too deep and you'll wind [bad word] 
tose the king i'm hard like a fifth of vodka
And bring your clique cuz i'm a hard rock knocka
I gotcha, out on a limb i'm about to push you off the brink
Let you draw your craw but you burnin' shot breaks
When the East is in the house you [bad word] equipped

Verse Three:

Fly like a jet sting like a hornet
Knuckleheads get live and set it off if you want it
Dirty rotten scoundrels is [bad word] fools no joke
With styles more fatal than second hand smoke
Don't provoke the wrath of this rhyme inventor
Cuz I blow up spots like the world trade [bad word] with the super trooper on his assault mission
The tech's technique cuz he's a technician
Wishin he'll go away won't help the weapons stop
The skills are shot cuz any idiot can let off a glock
Hard rock smellin the clutch of this untoucha
You claim you got beef on the streets so whatcha
Gonna do when real niggaz roll up on you
And you don't got your crew
Pull your glock but you don't got the heart
You was webbed straight from the start
Bought a tool and didn't learn how to use it
Got lost in Brooklyn so you had to lose it
Just for frontin you got that [bad word] waxed