(Hook): Boom! Turn up the volume We fix the magic can make the stars at the two Boom! Turn up the volume We fix the magic can make the stars at the two [Verse 1, Chip Fu (Fu-Schnickens)]: What was that a buddha I got a brand new shiny sharp shoota But those who try ta' Do do do Yeah Do what I do'a I'm laid back Kickin' it with the shaq black Yakaty yak Go for back Or kick your freakin' back crack With toes to your nose when I roll to my shows Thats what happened to the last man That stepped to my toes Goodness gracious There's a little bit of what the taste is I walk to grandma's house I gotta pay a visit [Verse 2, Poc Fu (Fu-Schnickens)]: Knock knock Knock knock Who do ya' think it's The coma' The coma' I'm comin' to fix the sink and drink the F-fees, f-fies, f-foes, f-fums I'm comin' the bound I'm comin' the bound The bound I'll be come around The b-b-b-bod K-k-k Pull it a little f and I'm done My lyrics are rugged they ruff ruff Like they really go ruff ruff I huff huff Puff puff Snuff it with us Dressin' up on up I'm gonna be cotton picking Wow us gadzooks us Wows us Mix the da da da da da da Puppy Cowards lost the style Wickety wild Watch my grill there's my style See ya' later alligata' I'm a wild crocodile Like um um Feels to be like tum tum Hates to read My style is bad Flat like all the a** on Halle Berry But really Yes I'm a freaka' Style from the dominant freaks and Where it be called that hip Like I got Down Syndrome (Hook) [Verse 3, Erick Sermon]: Saw me now Check out the way I do I come in wicked As funky as Wilson Pickett You can dig it when I kick it Competition betta' forget it I'm dangerous My underwear is Hane's Broken Jack George's Wa**up Every song I'm makin' a statement With no replacement Boom boom You can fill a base kick I'm about to do the larry bird That means jack With my boy shaquille's up [Verse 4, Shaq]: Talk of the ol' forbidda' That's right Shaq is in the rythym Who is my contender Cause I'm about to rippa' To shreds No, smithereens Eat you like a sandwich What kind Submarines With some lettuce Tomato or tamato I'm the big bravado Got sixty mill' I won the lotto' It must be magic Shaq is called to havok Yo I see your rebound Hey mo', won't you grab it [Verse 5, Moc Fu (Fu-Schnickens)]: NBI, yes I The one with the drive-by lyracist Coulda' get a wift of this high Mister m-o The intro with the pro-bowl Check out the ro-fo I swing my style on the down-low With the f-u It takes a few to get those with the fists A brotha' who is wack is on my shh I say smooth and apple I take gathers I'm badder than michael, and plus I'm a rapper I'm roota' than the pooga' I'm sicka' than the snake While the fly, d**hly grinners Part one of your faith At the sofa (Hook) Ha dayng da da da dayng da dayng