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Ay yo I don't remember what the fuck But yo I said, I'm nicer than the good Samaritan I make it rain, no wax but like a tribal African Got a call from my tall Spanish friend (ooh) Rugburn city, and now my knees need bandagin' Nah, the smoke's not loud, it's obnoxious I spit cyber-hot shit to fry your fiber-optics Watch this magic trick, quickly cut this bitch in half Then walk off colder than a winter draft Ask Mulder and Scully, Deck's style, X-File Extra-terrestrial, wow alien flow, cooler, Super-Saiyan blow Rebel of mighty Wu Clan Handin' out ass-whippins on a group plan So call me Mr. CZARFACE More action than the fight scene, the shootout, and the car chase Spoken word on 'em, right? Villain gone haywire, hey liar, don't cry wolf, say fire Pray higher, old guy'll stay by ya The outcome cost more than what you paid prior Turbulence from circumstance Quite perceptive, do his dance, moment he turned and glanced It's worth a thousand words, cowards die a thousand deaths SongtexteSounds fresh, so pay up with a pound of flesh Now the test like cops barged in and found the mess Outcome critical, lay down in the ground and rest Wake up in a million years, still here with his Villain peers Hittin' gears for another pill and beers Me and Jorjito crack a joke, and still in tears (hahahahaha) Guess God is a comedian While the poor get devoured in the jaws of greedy men Whose daughter's out dancin' to techno and BDM Sell soul? Heck no, sucker, 'til we meet again Saga of the Villain, brand new chapters, do amass new billions Barf krill on masses and rose-gold pavilions Rare form of integrity, oughta draw gazillions All in they feelin's, hatin' gets you nowhere Go home, practice one-two checks, oh yeah Word Okay alright yo, you brought a knife to a gunfight Yeah well I would do that and stab the shooter, broad sunlight Tadada, I'm bank of rehab, no secrecy I'm seekin' treatment for beatin' MCs repeatedly You petty locals, made for soft shit like Kenny Chesney vocals Mine are more like Reggie Noble's Yeah, I'm up in this bitch with Fonzarelli Leave MCs ate, Eazy, no Compton deli Oh boy, we in here like Chris Mullin I'ma do a heel turn and kick your fuckin' skull in And walk away spittin' poetry like Countee Cullen I'm the one true king of this one-two thing The way I kick bars and darts You'd think I mixed Marshall's art with mixed martial arts Aus Songtexte Mania