(Chorus)   Boom it and you boom it and you boom it in your jeep   Type of shit that hit when you pump it in your trunk   Boom it and you boom it and you boom it in your jeep   Babum, babum, make the speakers pop      I'm as bad, bad as Leroy Brown, Brown   I'm a pro p-pro, but not a noun n-noun   If you got beef, beef, you get ground, ground   Cut up in soul, soul by the pound for pound   I'm going downtown like Julie Brown, I'm the brown mound   Not a rebound, but like a hound, I get down   Never wore a leash but I'm a show ya   How loose is my goose, got more soul than combat boots   (I got soul, you got it) That's why I came   They keep calling me, man, they keep calling me, they call my name   And say, I can't give it away, give it away now   Or say whiz, say what or say how   Sh, ok, between you and me, man it's all this white rap   I got the power, hachoo, I'll just bite snap   Bum ba-bum, bum bum   Think fast, cause I'm the Ramadan   Ahoy-he-hoy-he, I'm Fat Boy   Shibidabibidabee, boom boom, I'll be the bad boy   Having a party, but I'm not a democrat   Spoiled as a child, but now I'm milk like similak   Don't have Cinemax because my cable's pirated   Bug out wit the rhyme, try to swat and I'll get fly wit it   For pest control, I suggest some soul   Porridge, shit, I got it, but I have no breath control   So gimme a TO, baby like um, Chris Webber   I got myself together   Now I'm straight, are you straight, if you straight, then I'm straight   Rock me tonight, just for old time's sake      Chorus      Roll to the rock, rock to the roll   Can't no A & R tell me that I ain't got soul   C'mon, can I get a clap, can't you see I'm trapped   And I'm so confused   News is getting paid but what about the bills   I wanna make some doe yet I wanna show my skills   Do you even know where I'm going   I ain't scared of you muthafuker, though I am of the Omen   I jam like a cobra, make note, I'm not caress   Cause I control minds wit rhymes, so FBI don't test   I got a no. 2 pencil and I'm a scribble all over your face   You see I don't pack no gat   I didn't see CB4 'cause I heard that shit was wack   Like Chris I rock, i'm strapped like my jock   Peace to NO ID and my nigga Why Not, check it      Chorus      Wopee, look at me, I'm hipper than a hippie   Chicks flyer than the boots, so all the MC's say you make me sick   Well go see the doctor, in your car, rock my tune   Wit the Boom shak lak lak boom   I'll buy you on a cracker, bayow, watch where the sparks went   Fatter than Dre, a Lover like Ed, super as Clark Kent   So give it away Lois, as I change clothes without a booth   And ride like this, like woof   The roof is on fire, it's not an LA riot   I got more ho, ho ho's than the jolly green giant   Large as the Professor and I'm never faking funk cock   Fat as heavy metal yet I'm harder than punk rock   So take me to a land I know not too far away   I got skills like Tim and I'm coming in a hardaway   So keep the crossover, common as a b-boy   While you be dragging last, I be kicking like Bruce lee would   Sho nuff, yo I got the stuff that tops the stove   And I am about to explo-o-o-ode   Who was that masked kid, that's what'cha ask kid   Free to be stroke, cut throat, Lonnie or ?rash? it   But oh no, this was Common wit his soul glow   Coming from Chicag- but yo I gotta go- go   The go, check, check the go(ha-ha) the go, check check the go(yea)      Chorus