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!