(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