All of these fuckin' groupie rappers want to get next to this
Prophesize the future of you muhfuckers like fortunes of King Oedipus
Red and split you down the middle like Moses with some stubble
You already went pop, I ain't got to bust ya bubble
Do I look like Cam'Ron? Don't treat me like a fuckin' fool
Or you can catch some Das Efx and get skiggidy-schooled
The rules? There's no guidelines to my madness
I'll leave your dumb ass to fill in the blanks like Madlibs
Off the top with the rhymes, but stay grounded
You could be Ben Wallace and still not be able to rebound, kid
Nothin', got you locked down like a welfare check
Carry the world on my shoulders like I was Bizaare's neck
From his fake Air Forces to the extensions, ya man's phony
It only takes me two minutes to cook MCs rice-a-roni
You could get dropped like Mike Tyson, and I'm half-an-Irishman
The end, MCs are like Jay's chips, can't stop eatin' them.