Verse One: J-Ro
I'm the beer rational outta national
My cash flow is thick like mashed potato-oes in the gravy
Wsup wavy, thanks to my homey King Tee-la
the host wit the most, Im coast to coast like Aunt Peela
the Cowboys beat the Steelers so nigga where's my $50
boom bap to your cap if your eyes is lookin shiftee
In this game of rappin your ass will never win
and let you play b-b rickers wit Quik, Suge and Mack 10
who need to come join these words like conjunction
a friend before I bring the end to your bodily functions
when I speak I go deep, like when I'm stabbin it
You comin up empty like your Mother Hubbard's cabinet
Cause you keep comin wit rhymes guns so deeply
Example is the school of mankind niggaz so peep me
you Range-Rovin, Tommy Hil and bustin glocks
while I'm in the studio bustin lyrics in my socks
and the A-C is broken, no jokin
we got the worm witout the coke-in
the fuckin DAT machine is smokin
The pizza still aint here, we out of beer
and I think this motherfuckin engineer is a queer
and my dip is blowin up my hip whats up honey
(eh J-Ro the land lord really wants his money)
AWW shit
Chorus
Contents under pressure, contents under pressure
I hope for the best and expect the worst
get stress off my chest everytime I bust a verse
Verse Two: Tash
Ain't no describin
the way that Tash be feelin when he's vibin
be feelin like a deadly secret agent on assignment
dont fuck wit microfilms, I want the microphones and tables
that some niggaz stole while I was at a meeting wit my label
cuz Tash will rock your cradle wit the fatal rhymes that pound
put you down cuz your lyrics suck more than Divine Brown
while Im off that Royal Crown gettin
