Which of you schnooks took my rhyme book? 
Look give it back you're wicky wack 
With your ticky tack calls didn't touch you at all 
I didn't touch your hand man you know its all ball 
You sold a few records but don't get slick 
'Cause you used a corked bat to get those hits 
You've been in the game, your career is long 
But when you break it down you've only got 2 songs 
MC's are like clay pigeons and I'm shootn' skeet 
I just yell pull and MMM drops the beat 
You people call yourselves MC's but you're garbage men 
Takin' out the trash when you pull out the pen 

And if you don't like then hey [bad word] you! 

I read about you up on page 6 
They was trashin' your [bad word] it's sad you're getting dissed 
Now talk about your face now don't get [bad word] 
But I suggest you see a dermatologist 
I keep that hot sauce hot not mild and weak 
It's gonna burn your mouth until you wet your beak 
I've got billions and billions of rhymes to flex 
'Cause I've got more rhymes than Carl Sagan's got turtlenecks 
Your rhymes are fake like a Canal Street watch 
You're hearing me and you're like "oh my god its Sasquatch!" 
I'm walkin' on water while you're stepping in [bad word] 
So put your sewer boots on before your [bad word] gets lit 

And if you don't like then hey [bad word] you! 
So put a quarter in your [bad word] cause you played yourself 

Sucker MC's it's me they're resenting 
In the animal kingdom they call it presenting 
With the dipsy doodle the kit and caboodle 
The [bad word] is [bad word] your grandma's kugel 
Kings County is my stomping ground 
The Albee Square Mall, Brooklyn, Downtown 
So don't ask me to wine and dine ya 
I'm from Brooklyn you're from Regina 
You're like Foghorn Leghorn, Yosemite Sam 
You're just yellin' and wildin' wondering who I am 
With those lies you're telling you look like Toucan Sam 
But my style's impregnable like the Hoover Dam 

And if you don't like then hey [bad word] you!