One, two, three,
One-two-three-four.

Hop on the spot,
Rock around the clock.
You can't reach my calibre,
My lyrical stamina.
Magical like Excaliber,
That's how it goes.
That's the prose.

And if you don't know,
You have to be
... uno, dos, tres ...
At least a one of the best.
Big up dem junglist boys.
I say yes,
Hyping up the crowd.
All those lyrics
Flowing out of my mouth.