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Well, I got more bounce to the fuckin` bump and

Then you want to know why it`s `cause I`m motherfuckin` truckin`

I`m in the pocket just like Grady Tate

I got supplies of beats so you don`t have to wait

`Cause I`m the master blaster drinking up the shasta

My voice sounds sweet `cause it has to

So light a match to my ass `cause I`m blown up

I`d like to thank the people for just showin` up

But now I want y`all to move it

Put your point on the floor and just prove it

And I`m smurfin` not rehearsin` gettin` live y`all

A little puffy so you now what I`m doin` right

`Cause that`s the kind of mind I`m in

I got a feelin` that`s back again

So don`t touch me `cause I`m electric

And if you touch me you`ll get shocked!

You`ve got the boomin` system but it`s blasting out doo-doo

You think it`s chocolate mild but it`s watered down yoo-hoo

I`ve been through many times in which I thought I might lose it

The only thing that saved me has always been music

We`ve got our own studio the son of the G

It`s no question life`s been good to me

`Cause life ain`t nothing but a good groove

A good mix tape to put you in the right mood

This one goes out to my man the groove merchant

Coming through with beats for which I`ve been searching

Like two sealed copies of expansions

I`m like Tom Vu with yachts and mansions

The logo I sport is the face of the monkey

Union made Ben Davis quality it`s no junk see

My chrome is shining just like an icicle

I ride around town on my low-rider bicycle

So many wack M.C.`s you get the T.V. bozack

Ain`t even gonna call out your names `cause you`re so wack

But one big oaf whose faker than plastic

A dictionary definition of the word spastic

You should have never started something that you couldn`t finish

`Cause writin` rhymes to me is like popeye to spinach

I`m bad ass move your fat ass `cause you`re wack son

Dancin` around like you think you`re Janet Jackson

Thought you could walk on me to get some ground to walk on

I`ll pull the rug out from under your ass as I talk on

I`ll take you out like a sniper on a roof

Like an M.C. at the fever in the D.J. booth

With your headphones strapped you`re rockin` rewind pause

Tryin` to figure out what you can do to go for yours

But like the pencil to the paper I got more to come

One after another you can all get some

So you better take your time and meditate on your rhyme

`Cause your shit`ll be stinking when I go for mine

And that`s right y`all don`t get uptight y`all

You can say shit because you`re biting what I write y`all

And that`s wrong y`all over the long haul

You can`t cut the mustard when you`re fronting it all

Well, I got more bounce to the fuckin` bump and

Then you want to know why it`s `cause I`m motherfuckin` truckin`

I`m in the pocket just like Grady Tate

I got supplies of beats so you don`t have to wait

`Cause I`m the master blaster drinking up the shasta

My voice sounds sweet `cause it has to

So light a match to my ass `cause I`m blown up

I`d like to thank the people for just showin` up

But now I want y`all to move it

Put your point on the floor and just prove it

And I`m smurfin` not rehearsin` gettin` live y`all

A little puffy so you now what I`m doin` right

`Cause that`s the kind of mind I`m in

I got a feelin` that`s back again

So don`t touch me `cause I`m electric

And if you touch me you`ll get shocked!

You`ve got the boomin` system but it`s blasting out doo-doo

You think it`s chocolate mild but it`s watered down yoo-hoo

I`ve been through many times in which I thought I might lose it

The only thing that saved me has always been music

We`ve got our own studio the son of the G

It`s no question life`s been good to me

`Cause life ain`t nothing but a good groove

A good mix tape to put you in the right mood

This one goes out to my man the groove merchant

Coming through with beats for which I`ve been searching

Like two sealed copies of expansions

I`m like Tom Vu with yachts and mansions

The logo I sport is the face of the monkey

Union made Ben Davis quality it`s no junk see

My chrome is shining just like an icicle

I ride around town on my low-rider bicycle

So many wack M.C.`s you get the T.V. bozack

Ain`t even gonna call out your names `cause you`re so wack

But one big oaf whose faker than plastic

A dictionary definition of the word spastic

You should have never started something that you couldn`t finish

`Cause writin` rhymes to me is like popeye to spinach

I`m bad ass move your fat ass `cause you`re wack son

Dancin` around like you think you`re Janet Jackson

Thought you could walk on me to get some ground to walk on

I`ll pull the rug out from under your ass as I talk on

I`ll take you out like a sniper on a roof

Like an M.C. at the fever in the D.J. booth

With your headphones strapped you`re rockin` rewind pause

Tryin` to figure out what you can do to go for yours

But like the pencil to the paper I got more to come

One after another you can all get some

So you better take your time and meditate on your rhyme

`Cause your shit`ll be stinking when I go for mine

And that`s right y`all don`t get uptight y`all

You can say shit because you`re biting what I write y`all

And that`s wrong y`all over the long haul

You can`t cut the mustard when you`re fronting it all

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