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Uh Mr. Smith, Mr Smith, Mr SmithUh Mr Smith, it's the bomb y'knowhutI'msayin? Mr. SmithMr Smith, word up kid, yeah Mr Smith, check it outI'm goin' to the top leavin' smoke in my trailBitch ass gangstas put that ass on saleAnd even if I'm twice as expensive as the restWhen I go for dolo you ain't checkin' for nothin' lessMy strategy is splittin' brain cavity'sIt's ya majesty bringin' you a tragedyYeah, on the butcher block slice her like a oxWhen it's time to get down, nigga I jam like a GlockI bust through all types of red tape and sue papesNiggas come old but they always wanna infiltrateI'm cuttin' snakes through the belly witta icepickAnd scoopin' hotties, a strong aisle of flip tripsIt's the rebirth of murkin' niggas once againI drain with ink and put your blood in my penI'm breakin ribs til somethin' givesA nigga got to live and Mr Smith is power god, kidMr Smith you got the shit sewed upWork ya thang baby, show 'em how to blow upMr Smith you got the shit sewed upWork ya thang baby, show 'em how to blow upSongtexteMr Smith you got the shit sewed upWork ya thang baby, show 'em how to blow upWhat? You wanna do what? You lack the vitalityOriginality, so face realityI'm on some ole wild shit, ya niggas can't get withMatter of fact, mornin yawn and suck a dickNah hold up, the fuck is goin' on?All these cartoon character MC's gettin' airbornetakin' off like a hot air balloongoin' up up up, oh no kaboomBring your heroes down to ground zeroShotty grippin ya grill like Pesci and DeNiroI'm on some shit, throats is gettin' shitScoopedin New Jacks and kick 'em in the fire bitTell them ole Jap niggas they need to go and stick itCos when it comes to this rap shit I'm mad wickedThe grand sire bringin' flavor to the whole gameMr Smith is my motherfuckin' nameMr Smith you got the shit sewed upWork ya thang baby, show 'em how to blow upMr Smith (I was a mack since birth)talkin' bout Mr Smith (I invented the taadow!) Uhtalkin' bout Mr Smithtalkin' bout Mr Smithtalkin' bout Time's up, your rhyme's up, mix the lines upI'm about to blow the spot up with that divine touchI got the magnetic energetic lyrical calastheticYa better call a medic cos ya look patheticGuan boy it's the champion Mr SmithYour niggas couldn't raise up with a forkliftCocked the hammer, peep out the grammarIt's hard like Bacardi and hot like a house partyAll your so-called flavor niggas is deadedYour next step is where ya headed so don't forget itYour rhymes is beat, your steelo's scarred to scrapeWhen you scream you sound muddy like a bled teethI get'cha open like f-lay, 'tack you when I sprayLethal compositions around your wayI'm the maniacal murderous Mr James SmithRippin' ya ass out the frame with my verbal giftMr Smith you got the shit sewed upWork ya thang baby, show 'em how to blow up Aus Songtexte Mania