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Living off borrowed time, the clock tick faster That'd be the hour they knock the slick blaster D**k Dastardly and Muttley with sick laughter A gunfight and they come to cut the mixmaster I-C-E cold, nice to be old Y2G stee twice to threefold He sold scrolls, lo and behold Know who's the illest ever like the greatest story told Keep your glory, gold and glitter For half, half of his n***as'll take him out the picture The other half is rich and it don't mean sh*t-ta Villain: a mixture between both with a twist of liquor Chase it with more beer, taste it like truth or dare Whеn he have the mic, it's likе the place get like: "Aw, yeah!" It's like they know what's 'bout to happen Just keep ya eye out, like "Aye, aye, captain" Is he still a fly guy clapping if nobody ain't hear it? And can they testify from in the spirit? (Nah) In living, the true gods Giving y'all nothing but the lick like two broads Got more lyrics than the church got "Ooh, Lord"s And he hold the mic and your attention like two swords Either that or either one with two blades on it Hey you, don't touch the mic like it's AIDS on it (Yuck) It's like the end to the means F**k type of message that sends to the fiends? That's why he bring his own needles And get more cheese than Doritos, Cheetos or Fritos Slip like Freudian Your first and last step to playing yourself like accordion When he at the mic, you don't go next Leaving pu**y cats like why hoes need Kotex Exercise index, won't need Bowflex And won't take the one with no skinny legs like Joe Tex
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