listen up punk, i got a nine in my pocket/im lyin/ i got nine shots wit a glock in ma pocket/ for any chumps who think they can knock it but they cant knock the hustle/ my mind is shot and its troubled/ plus people get shot wen im in trouble/ cuz my shots i like them doubled/ and wen i get hot i make you bubble/.....you think u can run around in my block/ well maybe you can but i can go faster then u just walkin on my hands/ cuz ur just a little slow/ u just learnin the shit that i already know/ and thats includin ya flo/ while u wastin time doin them hoes im lootin ya doe/ and u kno i got a sickamore style/ which is sicker and more pure then urs/ so good luck to you and ur whores/ cuz my words are pollutin your pores/ and ill knock down ur confidence/ they way the cops knock down and shoot up ya doors huh...and you kno some girls say that a guy is run by their d***/well i didnt hear u complainin last nite wen u was ridin that ish/ plus my d*** got a head wit a mind of its own/ and i seemed to have forgot my other one at home so u leave my big one alone,get it......i got a fire inside of me that'll burn thru ya eyes/ some say its called an arsenist homicide/ but i like to think of myself as a cold killin lyricist wit the rhymes/ cuz as i walk thru the valley of the shadow of death i leave dead mic trails wit they last breath/ and i must confess that if i dont get this shyt off my chest i could start grownin man breasts/ and you kno im the number one emcee/ cuz nobody can see mee/ and its easy to see this cuz theres no other emcee near me/ and i shall never fear thee because i flo fiercly/ and i b the one who spits fire in the sea just to get these words out of me/ so u myte say that this is long but i c it as just another song/ i can switch my flo then go on and on so stay tuned for the next episode cuz im lettin my tongue roll/ and if it rolls of nice the way i roll them dice/ then u myte start hearin my lyrics for a price.....the whole idea of u havin a career is makin me laugh/ cuz u just started writin shit that i forgot in the past/ as a matter of fact, if u sold ur best rymes u still couldnt pay for ma gas/ u so messed up in the head that u wuldnt fall over even if i kicked u in ya ass...please stop wastin my time wit ya punk ass rymes/ and do ya self a favor/ stick to ya day job ,makin nickles and dimes/ cuz i kno its ma flo your admirin/ dont be mad other labels are hirin, and im the reason they started firin...wit so much drama goin on in the NYC its kinda hard bein someone as fly as me, cuz my style is deadly, and these other rappers dred me/ cuz im on a level that is higher by ten feet.