(Ali, the baddest muthafucka ever...)      [ VERSE 1: ]   I'm chokin players like I'm Bob Knight,    choke the coaches like I'm Spreewell   They bowin to the 'Sayers till they knees swell   I shake the game up worse than Single White Females   Walkin to they car alone flashin three bills   These little kids are talkin 'bout how little I know   Boy, I grab a mic and rock you like your Triple 5 Soul   With a civilized flow, but if you say my name I'm like Beetlejuice   Dice you up and slap you till your teeth are loose   I've seen the noose and will not get lynched by the industry   Nor will I have an A and R pimpin' me stickin his thing in me   I'll sing for free for some years if it's clear to me   That if I'm there for my team they're there for me   For real, I'll be diligently killin the soliloquies   Of these millipedes that try to pass themselves off as ill MC's   I weave a web of words so intricately   That the English dictionary lacks an adjective to fit me   If he want my album tell him not to fuck with ATAK   He was hatin and Slug told the bitch to send my tapes back   And if I lose my voice then instead of sayin raps   I start paintin facts on the wall with hot crayola crayon wax      [ CHORUS ] (2X)   You're now rockin with the champion   You know you're in a war that can't be won   You need to stop and understand me, son   Cause I got a pocket full and I can hand you some      [ VERSE 2 ]   I wasn't lyin 'bout them muthafuckin hairy hands   Well how you think I tear a man till he can barely stand?   I share the land with heads that holler my chorus back   I'll do anything for the cats that show support like that   When I battle they hold my back, y'all most be smokin crack   Eyes are screamin, "I ain't supposed to rap," come on, you know you're wack   These Minnesota cats touch down in places where it's dormant at   Bring they muthafuckin trophies back   I'm like big up my man Optimus Prime   I'm like what the fuck do rappers got in they mind?   I might jump on the stage and start hollerin rhymes   Maybe bend your back around and make you swallow your spine   Cause it's clear you ain't seen no one this tight in years   When I sing I can bring Brian McKnight to tears   I have to consume, Ali capture a room   And before my son was born I made him dance in the womb   MC's put up your titles, I be grabbin em soon   Them faggots are doomed, worse than breathing hazardous fumes   Like (* heavy breathing *) (There it is)   Yes, now let the magic resume   Biatch      [ CHORUS ] (2X)