Meanwhile

Back at the ranch

We got Bo, Duke and Daisy

Goin' to go see Boss Hoggs

Then ya got Kooter fixin' over them cars

I don't need a glock

'Cause I'm not a hard rock

Got bitches on my jock

Like New Kids On The Block

I can't lose like Parker Lewis

I'm undefeated

Step into my sector, homeboy

You'll get greeted

By the .380 colt mustang in my pocket

I had a few drinks already

Don't make me cock it

'Cause if I have to cock it

Well then it's gettin' shot

And if it's gettin' shot, well, yo, you're gettin' bucked down

I don't **** around

I ain't got time for punks

But I got time to smoke all the skunk Philly blunts

Stunts gather round

Check out the sound

And let's get down to do the nasty, freaky, funky

Stinky, junky, let's bump uglies in the nighttime

Between the sheets

'Cause I rock fly rhymes over funky beats

The Celtic ruin

The Legion of Doom (Doom)

Now gimme the track

Or with the fat back doom

Now gimme some room

And I'll explode

Cock back my hammer, then squeeze off my load

So hit the road, Jack, and don't come back no more

Or I'll be moppin' up the floor with your crew of soft core

Punk p**** bitches

Jail house snitches

On stage I get wrecked and I collect my riches

I get the funky style

And like Gomer Pile

You'll be 'Surprise surprise surprise' as I

Rise to the top

**** a punk cop

I'm always hip-hop

Only a pimple goes pop

So you better quit, zit

I came to rip shit

Blastin' with the Soul Assassins

Askin' the question, teachin' the lesson

Bringin' the West Coast back to the East Coast

Where it all started

What are you, retarded

You're startin' to trip from that Jerry curl drip

Soakin' in your brain, the House of Pain

Is causin' pain, and feelin' pain

So feel it

[CHORUS]

Just feel it

Feel it

Just feel it

C'mon, y'all, feel it

Back to the rhyme

I'm always on time

A lime to a lemon

Yo, a lemon to a lime

I rock the old school style and it's futile

To step up, 'cause you'll get swept up

Like dust

Or I just might bust

And unload my clip

Unless you're a punk

Then I'll just pop you in the lip

And show you the deal

Now how did that feel

You know I'm killin' any pig that squeels

I'm fillin' up reels of tape with my fly rhymes

And I've got a subsciption to High Times

Son Dooby's in the back

The Mexican Ralph Emms is on the track (on the track)

My DJ Lethal, he's on the cut

When I bust a dope rhyme, it's like bustin' a ***

So let me ******* on the mic and get it sticky

When I drink a brew it's either Guinness or Mickeys

I'll put your head out

Just like a ****** Malboro

Don't **** with me, punk, you know that I'm thorough

Bred like a race horse

Right-in-your-face force

Feedin' you beats

Straight off the streets

So catch me catch me, if you can

You know I'm the man like Chewbacca knows Han

Solo, bolos are what I'll be throwin'

When I be flowin', I get the job done

'Cause I'm number one

The Prodigal Son

I left and I came back

But not with the same rap

And not with the same style

I'm known to get buckwild

The luck of the Irish

Spreads like a virus

So feel it

[CHORUS]