You sold me dust

Get him!

Great balls of fire

Guess who just crawled out the mud the mire

That could make you trust a motherfuckin′ liar

A real shuck n' jiver

Vaughn never been a duck n′ diver

He spit on the mic, yuck, saliva

Hold it like a drunk driver hold a CB on a sharp turn

Still clutchin' his chest from the heartburn

What's your handle? I need a Zantac, ock

And thanks before I blank into anaphylactic shock

Rock the disco

Chocolate on a Crisco ho?

Cock diesel, and still tell a joke like Joe Piscipo

Tell ′em the basics

Basically, break the Matrix

And just for kicks, make ′em gel like ASICs

That's why they actin′ standoffish

Eat the beat by hand like canned raw crawfish

Can you please pass the cocktail sauce?

You might as well know, Hell is hot as hell, boss

Tell my hoss, he said broads call me Vaughny

I make sure I throws 'em back if they′s too scrawny

Or bony, phony MCs use a stand-in

Leave him hangin' like if I ain′t know where his hands been

Hussy, how 'bout we bloody up you just for me?

Bust a knee, then go finish study, a plus degree

True victory, a new sick story

I never met a chick that was too thick for me

Holy Moses, my old earth know me closest

On how I played the back and stayed bent like scoliosis

It's no puzzle, you can ask Doc Zizmor

The slow guzzle got your nizzle crooked like Biz jaw

Drink like a fishy, she wish she was a Pisces

Live since back when 25 cents Icees

Used to turn your tongue the color red

Now they want to fill ya full of lead

What the fuck that young fella said?

What, kid? It′s Vaughn, the red-blooded

Do yourself a favor or come on, get head-butted

Yoke him if he run, I′ll be there in a jiffy, son

With the flame suppressor like off the 151

Quit your bitchin' or get blaow in your babble-box

Punishment for dry snitchin′, now eat this Travel Fox

You'll be alright once it pass through your yellow belly

Only thing he said was, "Can you please pass the jelly?"

Homo say what? Like a promo, play the cut

On the late night, before you touch the mic, get your weight right

A lot of crews like to act like a violent mob

They really need to just shut the fuck up like Silent Bob

Either that or get smoked like hickory

Should squash the beef and go wash their teeth quickly

Know the stee′, write a rhyme like a mystery

And sign it on the bottom in calligraphy, "Your nigga, V"