(Verse One)
Call it a rebound of a hip-hop devout, got my heat out,
feel alright like it is Friday night and Pop says,"Yo, let's eat out."
That's what I be 'bout, on the mike is where I be now.
Indeed now,
Good for you and easy to chew like a big bowl of puppy chow,
See how, I get up on the mike and I can excite, You may call it tripe, but that's just spite, I know my shit's tight,
Psych, it's like, when I was just a tike on my trike,
And all the big kids would flip lids on their BMX bikes, go take a hike!
And don't forget the Trail-Mix bitch!
Beats I know come from a Casio, so call me Chris! As in MC, envy, I be on the top of the list,
You try to diss, I won't resist, you'll feel the kiss of my fist!
I never miss! You gonna need a first-aid kit!
Remove your whack-ass rhymes like it be a cancerous cyst!
You can't deny you're tight-ass behind be so movin' to this!
Well MC Chris be holdin' down shit like he be holding bong hits!
(Chorus)
Like Mahatma Ghandi followed by a horde of hotties,
Or the feds on the trail of a Mister John Gotti,
I'm a soundwave tsunami, vocal origami,
Hijack the mike, and it's not like anyone can stop me. (X2) It's not like anyone can stop me, it's not like anyone can stop me.
(Chorus)
It's like arithmetic, the way I make it stick,
Some say it's jibberish, some say it's silly shit.
But some people pay a cover charge to listen to it,
Some people take the path train to Jersey for it.
LADIES!
In the corners with that hand on your hip,
I'll make ya jump so high that the record will skip!
I'll make ya feel so good that the room starts to spin!
My favorite kinda nut is a macadamian!
I say come one all ya hunnies, I am beggin' to begin,
I said I gotta get the grand, gotta get within,
Gotta get more cream then Wis-con-sin!
Honey-room suite at the Cher-o-din.
Bathtub full of ex-pen-sive gin!
Lots of roses and vi-olins!
Bi-kin-is made of di-o
