Brooks: Yo, we recording?   Dude: Yeah   Brooks: Ok. Hold on a minute. Lemme stretch out.      B to the r to the o to the o to the k to the s to the   B to the u to the f to the o to the r to the d   Yeah, God straight fucked up when he made me   Yeah go head buck up grab that mic   Don't give a fuck if you scream all night   You ain't no rapper, quit that shit   Stick to surfboards, suck my dick   I came to clean house, punch and roundhouse   Rhyme and run mouth, straight from down south   That's why all of y'all punks got dropped   I'll be the first to say, "Fuck rap-rock!"   I'm pumpin' OutKast and Goodie Mobb   What U know about La-Di-Da   Boogie Down and the history   How y'all came up a mystery   I've lived this hip-hop shit my whole life   And it almost took my life   I die for this, bleed for this   You want this, I need this   Let the world go to hell, I'll still fill notebooks   And I know just how that coke cook   Couldn't come thru the front so I came thru the back   With a band and a bottle of Jack   Dog, I ain't stupid, go ahead let's freestyle   I'll be havin' you lookin' like a shit pile   The ATL version of 8 Mile   With a jumpsuit dipped in argyle   Bangin' four or five ho's in the back of a Rodeo   Driving down Rodeo   With a shot gun in my mind   MD 20/20 one more time   One more flow, one more show   One million hundred ninety-nine to go   'Keep it real'. Naw, fuck that, make money   And try to buy up the whole country   Ain't afraid to die so punch me   Even rhyme with my head cut off like a chicken, stickin' to my dreams   Everything ain't what it seems   Come on dummy, run that game   Southern boy with a brain   You all slept didn't you   Whole bunch for me, none for you   I really hate to rub it in   But I got all my publishing, that's right   But anyway bustin' on this mic   Better than smokin' on that pipe   Some they hate, some they like   Some they talk, some they bite   Monday morn' to Sunday night   Let's get this party started right?   Wrong!      Break that bong, sing along   Do a line til the break o' dawn, til the money gone   Back up that buck, it's mine again    Hijacked a truck of Heineken    Looks like it's time for a line again    And how bout five Kolonapin    And I start to grin and I start to dance    I’m speakin’ in tongues, takin' off my pants    I'm blowin' my whole goddamn advance    And we ain't gonna stop 'til the ambulance