Hand me a little bit of umm, orange pineapple juice   I'ma sip on it, check it out      I got a rhyme, you got a rhyme   But my rhyme is better than yours   (repeat 2X)      U-A-C, they get they P's and   No I.D., be gettin his P's and   The Late Show, they get they P's and   ProfessaNots, they get they P's and      Peep the maneuver, how bout the Heim-lich   I rhyme sick and you can get the duck, coon   I'm the shit, you're shit out of luck, tough   I'm the act to follow, housing kids like Ronald   Mac like Donald Goines, flows I change like coins   Choyoyoyyoyoyyng, choyoyoyyyyng, choyoyoyoyyyyyng   I draw a crowd like blood with the 'pint of' technique   and everybody there be like, "YEAH!"   Cause cain't near a nig dat'll say 'Whoomp, There It Is'   I'm like a mom on section 8, over-bearing kids   shit they be like, "Com-mon!" That's my muhfucka true   Youse a hamburger, I'ma Fudrucker   askin me to lettuce ketchup, knowin you can't cut the mustard   So where's the beef, jerky?   I'm as Worthy as James, not that good with names   but I do remember your face from someplace this is one taste   of Chicago, we got mo' many mo' many mo' many mo' flavors   Don't just come to me, go ask thy neighbor-I'm-a-hood takin niggaz under   on the tundra, cause "they're plain, they're plain" (Fantasy Island)   I'm on a plateau that is fat so   It's just a fan-tasy, for the fans to see   how I land, I'm grand like a finale   I'm goin back to Cali (why?) cause Cali got bitches check it   Aiyyo Dart this is a sickness      Dee-da-da-da-doo-doo, dee-da-da, ah-eh-da-da   Dee-da-da-da-DOO-doo, dee-da-da, dee-da-da   South Side, rock on and   The West Side, we gotta rock on and   Hey yo Chicago, we gotta rock on and   The East coast, you gotta rock on and   The West coast, you gotta rock on and   ah down South, you gotta rock on and   Check it... "Now you can go!"      Mister Pussy Emcee, just get on gone   Get on gone, you pussy MC!   Steppin to me, with them dirty feets you'll get defeated   like Kunta Kinte, I'm kin to the Lynn crew   My great, great, grandpap done been through   so much it's in my hemoglobin to be a ill nigga   So I figure like a father... that I'ma Turn This Mutha Out   But Common you ain't hittin in New York   I don't know what you thought hops, but chief I got tall props   Some cats think I'm six feet I'm so deep   Some stunts be thinkin I'm six-fo', my shit be hittin like switches   Bitches, ask, why my, britches, sag   I ask the bitches, "Why your titties saggin?"   Put your nipple to the bottle I bust rhymes like breastses   I can get down, d-d-d-down like pessimist   "Ring the Alarm", I got Charm like a neck-a-lace   Tell the truth, tell the truth, y'all had to move your neck to this   Didn't you, didn't you... and it, and it, and it    and it don't stop, bust it      "Gotta crew ya better tell em" --> Keith Murray