[Verse 1: C-Rayz Walz]
(C-Rayz) I'm not freestyling. This is a written
Matter of fact, tell them kittens I'm the one that stole their mittens
Took ‘em to the forbidden exhibition
Put a Malcolm X on their mittens and left them Christian
With a Malcolm X, Martin Luther King gat
Digital cenobites—Sony ain't sharper than that
Who gets digital in the physical? Digital Vietnam on the boot camp
Making you transform to Megatron without the clip in a holster
Walz [?]. Picture me like John Lennon
“Imagine” I'm Leningrad, move through the street with ten-inch, stab
Go cop my own twelve-inch twice—that's a twenty-four cent purchase
Move through and hurt this above and below the surface
Urban merchant walking when I'm nervous
Seen with a hat often, trying to get my hair on the come back
Now I'm flossing, jumped out the Benz with the golden, red rims on
Pulled out, took my sneakers off, put the rims on the sneakers
And started burning rubber. Y'all cats ain't seen green
‘Til I start burning Flubber. And that's word to your mother's brother
The reason why you born, that sh** pop and you jumped off the lawn
How you get back into the twat? Hmm...
You must have been the only s**m sure with hops
Hmm... from London to UK, touché
Roundhouse kicks knock your face off if you gay
And that means you more than happy. Walz—get at me
I'm so nice, in the mirror, I kidnap me
Tried to battle my reflection for perfection
Only thing coming up in your career is your A&R's erection
So when you see me in your hoodie, know it's going down
This is C-Rayz Walz. I seen Motowns/mo' towns than Berry Gordy kids
Motowns/mo' towns than Berry Gordy kids. That's a 40? No, that's your shorty whiz
With a Def Jux [?] on my chest, I'm raw
You the vagina who*e that I seen at the store (And it's the wifey)
And the next time you move through, you must not like me
I got too much shoutouts besides the ones directed at wifey
Only thing I got to say about the slug in your face
Is that there's a thin line between love and hit (Big up Colony, son)