"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone" [repeat in background]
[Royce Da 5'9"]
Yeah, yeah...
Too many Indians and no chiefs
I pull out the pistol when I pull no piece
I'm the blueprint - I have your clothes
lookin like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints
When I bless a joint - it's like Spock
came up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point
I got the voc' in touch
I tell my bitch I'ma, give up drinkin when she give her emotions up
Too many enemies and no killers
Too many that hate snitchin but know squealers
I get stacks (stacks)
I blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap
I spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope
Y'all gotta wait for the transporter to get back
So who's the illest - what you talkin 'bout?
(Die Hard) like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it
Too many hood guys, not enough good guys
The way you say pussy in plural, is puss-i
I don't be fuckin around on that microphone
When I'm kickin them flows on that microphone
The illest nigga that's holdin that microphone
I put my heart and my soul in that microphone
I put it down on that (microphone)
Turn up the motherfuckin sound on that microphone
[Crooked I]
But turn it down if you weak on that microphone
Lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone
My ultrasounds show me holdin a microphone
That's on my momma, I was born with a microphone
Groupies love Crooked I on the microphone
Like James Brown I'ma DIE on the microphone
Too many rappers need to leave this mic alone
They on the same bullshit that Mike was on
You're lookin at the unseen, missin and to the unheard
I kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!)
You're verbally flirtin with murder, you got some nerve
I lift your skirt like a young perv - knock 'em out!
We the mob, homie who need a job?
Plus I'm so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob
Too many in this industry I need to rob
And if eatin niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob!
Fuck props, nigga this a different conquest
Listen this hear me spittin think it's a pissing contest
I'm in it for power, if cowards try to stop me
they better off usin a fishin pole to reel in the Lock Ness
Yes! I got a barrel that'll spot wussies
If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?
[Joell Ortiz]
You lil' niggaz better come off that microphone
I'm educated but I'm dumb on that microphone
Don't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone
I turn a father to a son on that microphone
I'm a revolver in the slum on that microphone
And tell his R's I don't need no microphone
Too many critics tend to be silly
Too many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies
