(See, look, look)   I grab the mic and start breakin' down niggas   Without no problem, broadcastin' live from the bottom   Ain't no mic checkin' worse   Kick some rhymes if you got but if it's wack      I draw back the cap for the peelin'   Should of stuck to rock dealin'   'Cuz it's the blood stealin' super vil   Chill, stayin' high like the ceilin'      See there ain't enough room for the both of us   See it's a showdown, throw down   Your best style, I'll bust   Yo, I write rhymes that make niggas throw they sets up      Couldn't hold my style if you had a pair of handcuffs   In all disrespect, I'll snatch you by your neck   And do a suplex and step   So nigga you can check my credentials      Just hard rhymes and instrumentals   Xzhibit smash you wit' a dental   And a loaded pistol, no longer lookin' in the window   I'll bust a field wit' indo killin' quarts of beer   Sadie's outta here      Like a fuze, start spreadin' the news   It's 94 and Breeze is givin' niggas the blues   I paid my dues and now it's time to go on to the next mode   Make room for the kaboom, 'cuz I'm about to explode      And drop bombs like a B1, cops I seize none   And niggas step up, I soak emcseason   Three seconds to destinate, you betta evacuate   No time to hesitate, you fuckin' featherweight      I ain't the type to pic up the mic   And catch the stage fright   I'll pull a gauge if I ain't paid right   To the promoters on tour      Short me a buck and a buckshot and the barrel is yours   I'm psycho pathic like Manson ain't wit' the dancin'   But still I get more Cheers than Ted Danson   More dough than Marino or roles than Pacino      You beatin' me? That's only in your dreams ho   I'm not sayin' I'm unbeatable, I'm sayin' I'm untouchable   Livin' comfortable just like a Huxtable   Plus I'm rollin' wit' the cross roads      Movin' fast forward, while you other suckas   Stuck in a pause mode   I goes deep like a great white   But I'm a stay black      No matter how high the pay stacks   Or if my rep gets bigger   You might get take this nigga out the ghetto   But not the ghetto out this nigga      For the balls basketballs microphones gassin' grass   Hey, some of the few things J-Ro likes to pass   93 mandingo 94 I'm the Pharaoh   'Cuz I'm b-bad to the bone marrow      I get wild wit' more styles than the martial arts   I need weed, I roll more grass than golf carts   April 92 you no the Ro was a looter   Now I'm writin' raps on my lab-top computer      J-Ro the tittie fiend, rap dean, wearin' green   Been on the scene, since the age of 13   I learned I had to earn the mic, now's my turn   I got Furious Styles like Larry Fishburne      Wit' da bitches tunin' me in   Like it's the Young and the Restless   Next up to bust my shit from the L-I-K-S's   Yes, it's the freshest wit' lyrics rough around the edges      I'll smoke you on the mic   Like a pack of Benson Hedges but hold up, wait   I'll bust rhymes that'll circulate   That'll wake yo punk ass up like MC Eiht      'Cuz I be rockin' rhymes since the roof was on fire   So point me to the bitch who's the dopest butterflyer   I'll make her break it down like she Patra when I catch ya   Broadway is on the tables while I throw these lyric atcha      So slow down before ya fuck wit' my sound   You betta do the hokey pokey and turn ya self around