[Chorus: Both] Hello How ya doin? Hope ya feelin fine We came to take up some of your time if you don't mind We came to represent and put it down for yall And spit a few bars about who we are [Punch (Words)] (So what's your name?) Puncline (And where you from?) The Lower And if you caught without a vest then you might be over (You got a girl?) Naw I don't erally trust these broads And the only time I'm happy's when they s**in me off (What pisses you off?) When b**hes act too eager Thinkin cause she s**ed you off that you gotta eat her Then there's all those dick-riders and they so-called friends Wanna down your bottle of Hen and ain't chipped in (Continue) OK lets see whats next on the menu Fights break out when we headline the venue Go against Punch and Words, why bother I spit your own rhyme and make it sound hotter Girls holler, on some engagement sh** Now these chicks be dyin to get a ring like the Knicks My style switched up, now my rhyme's the best Back then, n***as said I rhyme too complex Back then I was the best in my housin complex Now its 10 G's a rhyme, Punchline special guest And out tha test press, you get no shine They skip past your verse and check for mine Ahead of the time, turn your clocks an hour behind Cause yall just sayin rhymes I said in '89 Crazy wit rhymes, dare a n***a to try this Spray the whole City up like the West Nile Virus [Chorus:] If you people wanna party tonight Then you can hop in, come along for the ride We came to wile out for the rest of the night Punch and Words live right before your eyes My ladies if you wit me f** this party, let's slide Let's go and get a room at the 'telly tonight You rappers had your chance, its a must we shine It's been a long time but its down, we rhyme [Words (Punch)] (And what's your name?) Words (And where you from?) Brooklyn Its the home of the crooks that pack central bookin (You got a girl?) Yeah she ugly but she good at cookin And I ain't messin wit no chick if she ain't gushin 18 and over, (What you drive?) Cheuffer (And how you feel about these rapper's careers?) They over poetic and bald headed My peeps shoplift in malls And return the clothes just for store credit Yall'll get it, either la-ter or sooner Gettin played on your CD, tape, and your tuner Its a new day, stepped in this age of computers A million downloads gettin paid by consumers I k** rappers, I don't respect they d**h I just go to the wake to get the extra press Yall seen in this game as a thick chain rapper I'm Words, your ghostwriter, my nickname Casper Quick brain and able to think way faster Feel pain, migraines and ribcage fractures Frames, slit veins, stitched and patched up Eulogy, pastor, grave came after Afraid yall rappers, like to lose You better than Words? You must got out lifes confused Impress the public. Put it out so heads can love it Above average, my ad-libs got an extra budget [Chorus]