Verse 1:
  
   I created verb-noun ??? (The most beautifullest shit)
   I make up like foundation, now who you facing?
   The waterproof emcee,
   Ras blessed the mic faster than Ramadan in mach 3
   Get off my dick, nigga
   And tell your bitch to come here
   And stick your dick in your eardrum and fuck what you heard (Yeah)
   Fa sheezy, articulate drama
   Multiple lacerations between consecutive commas
   I like my ill nana wet, my martini dry
   Whippin' a BMW 540-I (drunk driving Miss Daisy)
   Devil in a blue dress packing heat
   While I'm doing doughnuts in the middle of the street
   My middle east metaphors motivate religious wars
   Jah-hah (plus some other middle east dialect)
   Get it popping like Felicia and Amhad Rashad
   Keep my game face on like a Goat
   So stick yourself, Pretty Tony
  
   Chorus:
   You, you are, you conceited bastard (8x)
  
  
   Verse 2:
  
   (We still got some non-believers) So I'ma drop the bomb
   Like the one-armed wide reciever
   See we be off the hook like (busy signal from phone)
   Criminally insana, my brain do the Macarena
   Attack the varicose vanity who spin cancer
   Rhetorical question, a hypothetical answer
   Wouldn't swallow my tongue at a seizure
   Speak my mind at my leisure
   Living singe with more hoes than Khadijah
   And when I'm bent, it's the circus without a tent
   Clowning all baby-face ass niggas who love hoes and pay rent
   Give a chicken six cents for Gucci boots (Hell no!)
   I rather mop the floor at a peep show
   What part of "I'm the shit?" don't you understand? (Gooby bitch)
   Your favorite rapper is a Ras Kass fan
   So, how many dykes do I flip on the daily?
   Many money, just give me plenty Henny Remmy
  
   Chorus: 8x again
  
   Verse 3:
  
   (Well, that's true) Damn, skippy
   I put that on everything I love
   Like when Lucy was fucking Ricky
   Got more stripes than Adidas
   I'm cavy like fish fetus
   See money snit and bullshit out-run cheetahs
   Too much perputrating, not enough lyricism
   Indo got you believing what your pen do
   Faking pugilism, the evil you claim you and your man do
   With a gloc, when you least likely to red dot a 7-up can
   My man, understand, I got connections
   So much doe in my pocket, I give my girl a yeast infection
   I'm big-headed like babies with down syndrome
   Is you a playa from the Himalyas with Jerome-rome
   This one girl tried to Billy Jean me
   But I was wearing two rubbers
   So name that nigga, Whodini (laughing)
   Controversal reversal, this is my planet
   You just a Reebok commercial
  
   Chorus
  
   What, nigga, check, check, yeah
   Uh, huh, yeah, yeah
   This goes out to all the critics
   You can suck the didick
   Check this out for all the bitches to the radio
   Don't hate me though, you don't know me