"My motherf**ing name is Bill Blasting
Aiyyo Foxxx, cook a n***a a**"
[Freddie Foxxx]
Now I'ma lay this lyric down quick like I planned
A real smooth style from the militant mack man
So rappers that feel they got hot enough to flow with me
Put your mic down punk, you can't roll with me
Cause I can take it better than the best
And hogtie you motherf**ers and blow holes in your chest
So understand that I come rough and rugged and wicked and tough
Until you motherf**ers had enough, yeah
The master of the microphone, I'm not a star in glitter
A b**h get in my face popping sh**, I'm gon' hit her
Break her f**ing legs so the b**h can't stand
And then grab a forty-five and put a slug in her man
Drag 'em to a hole where they can't be found
Then throw dirt on 'em by the pound
Now every time I go to a Hip Hop show I check the set
To see how many rappers I can wet
Because I scheme while they're dancing, I beat up high and hell
I chase down their DJs and whip 'em with a belt
And then I go to dressing rooms looking for my victim
See that my right-hand man already kicked 'em
And stomped 'em, put the nine barrel in his mouth
I drag 'em to the stage and take 'em out
I'm sick and tired of seeing all of you wannabe tough guys
Wannabe rough guys, I'm giving ya puffed eyes
Man I'm knocking n***as off in '93
And saying 'What's up?' to all the n***as in jail that's down with me
The rapper that used to be my man
And then he got too cool for motherf**ers in dealer's pants
He went Hollywood, you lost your style and your flavour
And looked for Freddie Foxxx to save ya
But yeah I see ya drowning and you reaching for the paddle
I crack you in ya motherf**ing head and watch ya brains rattle
And then I pull you ashore for more
And you'll be wishing that I left you to drown on the ocean floor
Twenty-thousand leagues, and my rhyme is still going
Like a wave in your face, I'm still flowing
I'm nice with the mic like I'm nice with my fist
You might think that you can reach out and touch this
But when you reach your arm out, you might as well forget it
I chop your f**ing arm off and beat your f**ing a** with it
It's f**ed up the way n***as try to play you
They try to get yours when you a hard-striving, working motherf**er
But you know what? I'm barbequing that a** in '93 baby, like this...
[Hook]
Cook a n***as a**! {*X6*}
Yo G. Rap, you bad?
Well cook that n***as a**!
[Kool G. Rap]
Here I come to get some motherf**ing wreck
But first I gotta um, vest check, gun check, clip one check, clip two check
I'm set, so let a motherf**er move a muscle
When I tussle there'll be pieces in n***as backs like f**ing puzzles
Cause Kool G. Rap is known for bringing mad noise, a bad boy
When I was young I always carried guns, I never had toys
Foxxx, give me the infrared and semi
And I'm putting red dots on n***as foreheads and making motherf**ers Indian
You got beef? Go get yourself a wreath because it's murder
Cause I put holes in my beef like f**ing White Castle burgers
So now I gotsta run up on a clown with the four-pound
co*ked back, rock black, gun a n***a down
I see him, he's coming out the f**ing coliseum
Then hopped into a BM, sh**
Put in a clip and then I dipped into the ride that my man had
Parked on the sidewalk, then we start to glide
I'm raining on 'em, faster n***a, oh yeah regaining on 'em
{Oh sh** he's with somebody else} f** it, put his brain on 'em
Boom, boom, no survivors
Lifted the n***a out the seat when they found him, he be a back-seat driver
But I ain't finished with the trigger yet, I'm lighting up a cigarette
Bang, bang, I left the other n***a wet
It's G. Rap baby, you know me, you try to hurt this
I'll split your f**ing top and leave a fingerprint on purpose
[Freddie Foxx]
If ten n***as play me, ten n***as fry
If twenty women love me, then twenty b**hes cry
This is Freddie Foxxx and I'll never die
And I'ma tell your motherf**ing a** why
[Hook]
Cook a n***as a**! {*X6*}
Aiyyo Foxxx, you bad?
Then cook that n***as a**!
[Freddie Foxxx]
Freddie Foxxx, said I'm devious, a lot of n***as know
I'll make a grown man put on high heels and treat him like f**ing hoe
I go back to the dark age of pain
When Greeks used to whip to a motherf**er with a seven-inch thick chain
I'm the epitome of pain
I'll drag it out your a**, wet n***as can't stand the rain
I've been around for thirteen years, I never stall it
When n***as see Foxxx they can't call it
I smile in your face, I make you think it's cool
I kidnap that a** and drag ya down to the swimming pool
Hold ya underwater, pull ya up just before you die
Take a knife and jam it in your eye
Never ask why, die rapper die
It was you and I, now it's just I
f** who got to watch, it's who got the Glocks
And who can outsmart them stanking a** cops
I got a twenty-two snub stashed in my sock
It does more damage than a ten-millimetre Glock
Because the bullets gon' travel from your foot
To your watermelon head, either way your a** is still dead
Call the morgue, cause sh** just got drastic
This test he couldn't pa** it, so he became the blasted ba*tard
Cause Foxxx ain't nobody to be joking with
Kool G. Rap and Freddie Foxxx still smoking sh**
I still represent it just like I own it
My rhyme will take a n***as head clean off his body now won't it
Since you p**y n***a, I'm up on it
Check you for your microphone and tone it like I own it
Stick an Uzi in your a**, make you fess up
Kick you in your a**, b**h n***a, pull your dress up
[Hook]
Cook a n***as a**! {*X6*}
Kool G. Rap and Freddie Foxxx
Yeah, cook a n***as a**!