Livin off borrowed time, the clock tick faster
Thatd be the hour they knock the slick blaster
Dick Dastardly and Muttley with sick laughter
A gun fight and they come to cut the mixmaster
I-C-E cold, nice to be old
Y2G steed twice to threefold
He sold scrolls, lo and behold
Know whos the illest ever like the greatest story told
Keep your glory, gold and glitter
For have half of his niggazll take him out the picture
The other half is rich and dont mean sht-ta
Villain a mixture between both with a twist of liquor
Chase it with more beer, taste it like truth or dare
When he have the mic its like the place get like Ah yeah!
Its like they know whats bout to happen
Just keep ya eye out, like aye, aye capn
Is he still a fly guy clappin if nobody aint hear it
And can they testify from inner spirit no
In living, the true gods
Givin yall nothing but the lick like two broads
Got more lyrics than the church got Ooh Lords
And he hold the mic and your attention like two swords
Or even one with two blades on it
Hey you, dont touch the mic like its AIDS on it
Its like the end to the means
Fucked type of message that sends to the fiends
Thats why he brings his own needles
And get more cheese than Doritos, Cheetos or Fritos
Slip like Freudian
Your first and last step to playin yourself like accordion
When he at the mic you dont go next
Even pussy cats like why hoes need Kotex
Exercise index wont need Bowflex
And wont take the one with no skinny legs like Joe Tex