Verse 1:
Check it I catch more heat than a histitic jew
You catch two thumbs down like a Matty Rich movie review
Your individuality is missing like Adam Walsh
Your image faker than the hair on Diana Ross
Too far gone inside my art form
Worshipping the ground that I walk on that's cool
But while you're being me who's being you?
I'm hot like Patra Doggystyle on all fours
End your career like Christopher Williams did Al B. Sures
Mass hysteria, malaria come to ya area
You couldn't touch my style with Hands Across America
I slaughter, spit in your water like Kidd homes
Leave you need orthoscopic surgury like Quincey Jones
Cause I can give Beverly, Demi and even Melvin Moore (more)
Van Halen, Eddie, get Ellen ready make Pauly Shore (sure)
Your new single sounds like the double dutch bust remix
Watch you collapse and die like you was River Phoenix
Me and rap go way back like LL's hairline
Nigga fuck a punch line, I write fucking punch rhymes
I'm gorgous so when I'm performing just leave your girls at home
I'm the best thing to happen to bitches since the straightening comb
When I'm up in 'em spittin' venoms I never go soft (never)
I make that pussy snap Back Back Back and Forth
Some more outtakes over B.Rich roughbreaks
I write more rhymes han Rick James makes license plates
So life every voice and sing
Cause I don't need no partner to swing
Hook:
They don't know
They don't need a partner to swing (X6)
"More cash in my hand" - Grand Puba
Verse 2:
Surrounded by more mysteries than the stone henge
Warning your friends, Chino X could make the corrinor cringe
Urinating in the audience when I perform
Biting the heads of chickens and bat
