Your rap band broke up but I wouldn't call it tragic, 'cause
You say you got the mad flow, but all I hear is static, so let me on the
Mike so I can work a little magic, never sweat shit 'cause my rhymes are automatic

Back the fuck up, and shut the fuck up, and don't say nothin' as I
Fuck your shit up, you can't stop frontin' can you?
MC Fire and there's nothing that I can't do, takin' this shit up to the next level
About to explode like a boiling tea kettle, checkin' out my flow

'Cause they always want more, but there is just no break
When they're lined up at the door
So you wanna know how I got my groove back, it's corporate America
That's givin' me the greenbacks, so step right up, and dry those eyes up
And take notice how I light this mic up

Always nickel and dimin' or fuckin' flossin' diamonds, the same ol'
Tired lyric, of bustin' out the hymens, throwin' 'em on the mantle like a
Trophy piece, the lies are livin' large, are passe', they've deceased

Everybody hit the deck, when the beat is thumpin', the bass is pumpin'
The crowd is jumpin' everybody get down, let me tell ya'll something
When we're on the mic you know we don't stop for nothing

From the corner of the eye I see you sneakin' by
I holler pack it up, and let my fists fly
I feel it getting hotter in the pressure cooker 'cause tillys got
More hooks than johnny lee hooker, look out

It's only a matter of time before you're singing our songs
So don't tell me how to rhyme when we're doin' it wrong
We jumped off the charts, yo! We didn't belong
All you critics are cynics, c'mon bring it on

The taste of couvasier it makes me nauseated
Trite mcs always sweatin' on how they're rated
So drop all the fronts, facades, and all the show
And see if you can stand up to my pasty white flow

Fuckin'—motherfuckin' shit son-of-a-bitch
Gotta get a girl or two to soothe my itch
Cpr crew we're coming off without a hitch
I'm pickin' up stitches, must be the season of the witch

It's hopeless all you think about is a dopefest, your pipe's
Got wonderful grafix, won't you know that it's smokeless
Get your head out the clouds, back with me on the ground
With my tent revival crew I'll be making my rounds

Hold up crew, let us get on the same page
I don't think I can 'cause I'm caught in a rage
A sage is born, we gotta get on track
Gotta prove it to the people that CPR is back

But I'm that way, I'm this way, musical dismay
So push play and crave the beats that we display
Through your speakers and into your home
Passin' through the airwaves and into your dome

Let it sink in with the revolution tone
If we bottled our sweat we could sell it as cologne

Cash till, you soooo bad!