Chorus 2X:

Nigga I don't got no feelings

What the fuck you think this is

I got no reason to live

So make your mind up what you want to do

I make your family be missing you

Yo dusting you off like dirty fingerprints on evidence

Battling me you dead like presidents

I'm fresh like prince jazzy like jeff

The man just like Meth crazy like Lep

Plus jams just like Def

With a pin I'm a king like Kurupt

When I throw a style, you better duck

And if you don't your ass is out of luck

Don't fuck with the master if I have to

Then I blast you, then go to Church and see my pastor

Why you have to be like this, me and the mic's tight

Like lettuce, lighting the pimps

This year my son turned six

If your style's wack then you need to get that shit fixed

Brothers hittin Jersey, my raps hitting harder than bricks

I'm iller, willer than your local drug dealer

Come to my villa, meet the 9-milla

Letting off, where I stop you getting off

Make you feel it just like Latifah's kiss in Set It Off

You want war come on, put on the boxing gloves

People call me an artist on the canvas cuz I draw blood

That's what's up with the shit I maneuver

Hit the losers with a Lueger then lay up in Aruba

I'm gonna be rappin till you muthafuckaz

get sick of me on the M-I-C

I'm sicker than ten niggaz with HIV

Tracey, pack the chico, the freak though

Holding heats and we're in wall street

With Sloppy Joe, you feel me yo?

Chorus:

Uh what check it, my name is Steven

I eat MC's for no apparent reason

Better you if you skeezin, I'm pleasing

Those who dare, I advise you not to stare