Chorus 2X:
Nigga I don't got no feelings
What the fuck you think this is
I got no reason to live
So make your mind up what you want to do
I make your family be missing you
Yo dusting you off like dirty fingerprints on evidence
Battling me you dead like presidents
I'm fresh like prince jazzy like jeff
The man just like Meth crazy like Lep
Plus jams just like Def
With a pin I'm a king like Kurupt
When I throw a style, you better duck
And if you don't your ass is out of luck
Don't fuck with the master if I have to
Then I blast you, then go to Church and see my pastor
Why you have to be like this, me and the mic's tight
Like lettuce, lighting the pimps
This year my son turned six
If your style's wack then you need to get that shit fixed
Brothers hittin Jersey, my raps hitting harder than bricks
I'm iller, willer than your local drug dealer
Come to my villa, meet the 9-milla
Letting off, where I stop you getting off
Make you feel it just like Latifah's kiss in Set It Off
You want war come on, put on the boxing gloves
People call me an artist on the canvas cuz I draw blood
That's what's up with the shit I maneuver
Hit the losers with a Lueger then lay up in Aruba
I'm gonna be rappin till you muthafuckaz
get sick of me on the M-I-C
I'm sicker than ten niggaz with HIV
Tracey, pack the chico, the freak though
Holding heats and we're in wall street
With Sloppy Joe, you feel me yo?
Chorus:
Uh what check it, my name is Steven
I eat MC's for no apparent reason
Better you if you skeezin, I'm pleasing
Those who dare, I advise you not to stare
