Ahhh, hear! Ahhh, hear!   It's a figure of speech when some artists start to teach   But when I start I teach and reach   The hearts of people who really truly give a damn about music   Whether that is a man or woman   Book book book book book I could write a book about   Wife who don't know where to teach like chalk (?)   Or Tu Pac or Paris or the Rebel MC rapping stupid   Just listen to me   You may say that's another brother out to get money   Well you're right   I need money like honey   But for the right thing when I rap and sing   Not for jumping around the stage and showing the girls my black ding-a-ling   Your image is based on your bodies   Why you doing music? Is it just a hobby?   These things are going on in the music industry   Money, brain insane, fame fame, endlessly   I can't take it no more, it's getting worse   I'm getting well vexed listening to the second verse   This song, you have to stop, look, and listen   Hear no bullshit, see no bullshit, say no bullshit, diss 'em   You think you're god's gift, you're a liar   I wouldn't piss on you, if you were on fire   (Repeat)   You say Fusion, why you always like to cuss   'Cause I can't change the world if I miss the bus   Sorry, sorry, sorry, for the flavor of the month   Criss Cross, Vanilla, Markey Mark and the Funky Bunch   Markey Mark, surrounded by negroes   You don't need blackies to be rap heroes   Just brains and put 'em to the test   Not a fourth damn small and a muscle-bound chest   Criss Cross, what can I say?   I hope your beat matures then your beats will stay   Vanilla, huh! you sometimes ponder   Ice, ice, baby, now he's the one hit wonder   Credit, rough without a doubt   Make you jump and shout, make the idiots shut their mouth   Who says people the conscious lyrics   And rappers the cats and evil spirits   Me, because it needs to be said   The plastic music has to drop down dead   MC Fusion on a hip hop mission   Hear no bullshit, see no bullshit, say no bullshit, diss 'em   You think you're god's gift, you're a liar   I wouldn't piss on you, if you were on fire   (Repeat)   Pom, pom, and the conscious woman   I say the woman first 'cause it's always the man   Respect due 'cause I said it before   That women are the same, we don't need a war   Mickety Mack this, Vanilla Ice that   Markey Mark this, pretending that he's black   Book book book book book it in your brain   For doing those lyrics you must be insane   And videos taking over MTV   Twenty women one man, ha ha, reality, please!   Don't even give me that crap   There must have been some reason why they give you heart attack   Love songs come straight from your heart   Not from your ass, you liquor ass   Fobbing us up with that cliche crap   But the cliche crap is at the top of the map   Or the charts, or whatever you want call it   Stop it, before me drop it   Listen to the radio, watching television   The words that you speak, ha, diss 'em   You think you're god's gift, you're a liar   I wouldn't piss on you, if you were on fire   (Repeat)   Just a lizard tongue telling stories   Now fire in your lick-spittle mouth