Christmas Star Princess Superstar! Ho Ho Ho! Who you callin' a Ho? Look, I'm too poor to afford life size cut out cardboard of me poured into a size 4 With a
B-Real's verse] You got the Real-a Swingi' of my nuts Cube Killa Break maself niga, huh! Dick-a lick-a You ain't a killa You a busta Muthafucka Bitch
B-Real's verse: You got the Real-a Swingi' of fmy nuts Cube Killa Break yourself niga, huh! Give a lick-a You ain't a killa You a busta Muthafucka Bitch
] You got the Real-a Swingi' of my nuts Cube Killa Break yourself niga, huh! Dick-a lick-a You ain't a killa You a busta Muthafucka Bitch made niggaz
perhaps spinning out wax Yo nas put the black wars on elegant floors The teachers got operations make 'em insecure Gypsy cabs I flag Donnas DC slam that ass take a
demolish in a single day Strike faster than a magazine, ace/deuce tray My beat is a death defying feat And every mom crack the shell, it's so hard to repeat My Beat a
like the best, nobody fuckin with us We done turned to a bygone don crew We got the semi Kimora like Djimon Hounsou A lifetime criminal, live by a code
Actin' like, what a way to play these clowns Shady towns, guerillas tryin' to lay me down Yo lady brown, I'll set it up, who give a fuck? We vested up
The fat LP with Cappachino on the wax Pass it in your think, put valve up to twelve Put all the other LP's back on the shelf And smoke a blunt, and
Then I saw a face on a wanted poster An outlaw who stayed with an empty hoster Used to shoot mugs of beer off the coaster Make a room to turn the light
you know we reppin the cause Still a (Rebel) never needin a (Pause), I check drawers for balls [Chorus: Chuck D (singers)] Whatever it takes to make it hardcore! (Ridin with a
take a snake and shake and bake the flake Until I say for goodness drake Don't make no more damn mistakes And then I dunk a skunk, hunk, a punk who
basketball, mademoiselle, look I ain't Biggie Smalls, I don't even want a story to tell I'm a lover, not a fighter, alright but then a girl walked in
and fall deep in a verse If I was out in the street yo I probably lay a sleep in a hearse There's nothing like when you on a mic tearing a track Then
deep in a verse If I was out in the street yo I probably lay a sleep in a hearse There's nothing like when you on a mic tearing a track Then you come
', treated me like a jerk Now I'm seein' the pay-off of all my hard work 'Cause now that it's my records on the wheels Somehow all of a sudden, it's
turn to A mellow kinda fellow but in the past he Been known to get an attitude and get right nasty Snatch the wax It's a fact not a figment Get real
hardcore Voice on radio, face on TV Spankin' new funky rhymes on a CD Out to attack, the wack, full contact It's gonna be a long night go get a knapsack