(I'm glad you all made it to my show Hope you enjoy it By the way: Ill mind music is in the house Keep it up) It's lord quas droppin' shit like some horses Imitatin' your mindstate have you split like divorces of courses The new breed fuckin' up the mainstream Plus we gon' gain cream Keep doin' the same thing Elevatin' styles beyond explication Turned up the notch increase the amplification Madlib got ya bumpin' in your upper story While I drop the microphone mathematics Simple tactics So I can bag chips Make you backflips Like when I used to smack chicks Now I just bag dips It's like some people ain't got no mental sight You try keepin' it real (Yet you should try keepin' it right it's understandin' microphone mathematics) x4 Quas, drop that number thing I was born in 1973 I got five brothers we lived up on 9th street On the 22nd of december My pops shot 6 cops, I remember Never got caught 10 Stitches Got burnt by 7 In the 12th grade thinkin' about million dollar riches On the 3-4, I broke about a dozen mics On the 1, 2s, I took out a hundred crews 365 Days to a year, subtract it off your life In 2000, that's the end of strife It's like some people ain't got no mental sight You try keepin' it real (yet you should try keepin' it right)