(See look look)
   I grab the mic and start breakin down niggas
   wit out no problem
   broadcastin live from the bottom/aint 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 vill..
   chill..stayin high like the ceilin
   see there aint 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...
  
   Verse Two: MC Breeze
  
   Like a fuze/start spreadin the news
   its 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
   3 seconds to detinate/you betta evacuate
   no time to hesitate/you fuckin featherweight
   I aint the type to pic up the mic
   and catch the stage fright
   I'll pull a gauge if I aint 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
   aint 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 foward/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.....
  
   Verse Three: J-Ro, Tash
  
   For the balls basketballs
   microphones gassin grass(hey)
   some of the few things J-Ro likes to pass
   93 mandingo/94 I'm the pharoah
   cuz I'm b-bbad 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 lyrica atcha
   so....slow down before ya fuck wit my sound
   you betta do the hokey pokey
   and turn ya self around...