'If I hit 'em high, hit 'em high, hit 'em high / And you hit 'em low, hit 'em low, hit 'em low / If I hit 'em high, hit 'em high, hit 'em high / And you hit 'em low, hit 'em low, hit 'em low /'
Brooklyn wins again It's the Stuy, it's the Bush, dem niggaz again/ Ta' Kweli, Mighty Def, and S-Dot on the guest slot/ Kanye, you're the dope man in hip hop, now let's rock/ Now roll out niggaz, my hometown niggaz/ I get it good in your hood, so slow down niggaz/ Watch the speed though, mind the pedal and ease off/ A street talk into a collision course with these walls - bam! They don't move, don't brake, don't lose, don't sleep/ Light passin', light fashion, life happens that fast, party done/
Can't decide which rapper killed, between Mos and Kanye.
Sometimes I like to chill, sometimes I like to mingle/ Sometimes I get the fever for the flavor of a single/ Sexy young slimmy, but not too young though/ That's because Jimmy might end up on death row/
Well I'm peeping and I'm creeping and I'm creep-in/ But I damn near got caught, cause my beeper kept beepin'/ Now it's time for me to make my impression felt/ So sit back, relax, and strap on your seat belt/ You never been on a ride like this before/ With a producer who can rap and control the maestro/ At the same time, with the dope rhyme that I kick/ You know and I know: I flow some old funky shit/
Now this goes out to all area clicks/
Centralized and way out in the sticks/
Remember to keep the De La in the mix/
Just like log cabin syrup my sound is game thick/
Now this goes out to all area clicks/
From manicured lawns to projects bricks/
Remember to keep the Mos Def in the mix/
Straight butter hits, drop as a good as it gets/
After the show... it's the after party then/ After the party... it's the hotel lobby and/ After the Belve'.. then it's probably Cris'/ And after the original, it's probably this... (fiesta)/
...Yes ma, Bed-Stuy, fiesta/ Remix with the homie from the Midwest side/ Game recognize game, y'all will too It's the new 2 Live Crew, I suppose you knew/ So thugs, pop yo' toasters, but don't approach us or/ Bullets'll chase you like... Moet mimosas/
And nowadays girls want you for your money/ I'm like Hev, I got nothing but love for you honey/ And since I'm looking slick and my pockets are thick/ I need surgery to get chicks removed from my...chiiill! I'm coming straight out the NYC/ Rap's my J-O-B, and I'm MVP/..
From New York to Chi, we flow like hy-dro/ Blow out live shows, without py-ro/ See how I combined, the I-O flow? Tone'll rep, Memph Bleek, Kels and Hov'/