(Verse 1: Lotto)
I'll spit a racial slur, honky sue me
This sh** is a horror flick, but the black guy doesn't die in this movie
f**ing with Lotto? Dawg, you gotta be kiddin'
That makes me believe you really don't have an interest in livin'
You think these n***as gonna feel the sh** you say?
I've got a better chance joining the KKK
On some real sh** though, I like you
That's why I didn't wanna have to be the one you commit suicide to
f** "Lotto," call me your leader
I feel bad that I gotta murder that dude from "Leave it to Beaver"
I used to like that show, but now you got me in fight-back mode
But oh well, if you gotta go then you gotta go
I hate to do this, I would love for this sh** to last
So I'll take pictures of my rear end so you won't forget my a**
And all's well that ends okay
So I'll end this sh** with a "f** you" and "Have a nice day!"
(Verse 2: B-Rabbit)
Ward, I think you were a little hard on the Beaver
So was Eddie Haskell, Wally, and Ms. Cleaver
This guy keeps screaming, he's paranoid
Quick, someone get his a** another steroid
"Blah-badi-boo-blah, bah-badi-bloo-blah!"
I ain't hear a word you said: "Hippity hoopla!"
Is that a tank-top or a new bra?
Look, Snoop Dogg just got a f**in' b**bjob
Didn't you listen to the last round, meat-head?
Pay attention, you're sayin the same sh** that he said
Matter of fact dawg, here's a pencil
Go home, write some sh**, make it suspensful
And don't come back until something dope hits you
f** it, you can take the mic home with you
Looking like a cyclone hit you
Tank-top screaming, "Lotto, I don't fit you!"
We'll see how far them white jokes get you
Boys like, "How Vanilla Ice gon' diss you?"
My motto? "f** Lotto"
I'll get the seven digits from your mother for a dollar tomorrow