[Psycho Les] Some incredible shit, some incredible shit uhh Twist that baby up in here
[Armaretta] 'Ey yo Big Psych
[Psycho Les] what up, what up mami
[Armaretta] get on the mic and rock the M.I.C.
[Psycho Les] Light a hell up, puff to my eyes swell up when it comes to the green we got hell up (My music bang, from here to releswelup (?) ) bang you with the music, or bang you accapella like my shorty ran up, said get the cheddar I'm making to much I'm getting hated by the tela I'm making so much I'm getting customized leather brand new shoes, twenty-twos and better so I pass those talking birds like berreta heavy rotation like a propeller every station saying this is something you never never heard before so crank it up and hit the art-core (art-core) (art-core) (art-core) (art-core) yo, yo next up
[Armaretta] yo I believe that's me
[Psycho Les] Armaretta, Rock the M.I.C.
[Armaretta] Invisible being gangster on the game if this about hottest bitch then you know my name see me in the street better bring the theme Brooklyn representitive, the road to fame I sit back, laid back thinking 'bout all my gats spittin' host to your cat man, as long being tapped man in the club my niggaz never left me go be getting out with knives cuz security ain't checking thread me stupid better think twice he don't know how I get when I'm in the bar nice hot licks no ice, everything look right here dun hold tight I dig hopping ass hoes man as build and see life's about getting paid about getting laid, at the hard getting sprayed BK build up, white fox silled up you expect us to live six hundred a crib now who's next
[Problemz] Yo I believe that's me passing the tree to Armaretta ripping it constantly I specialize in distributing raw sixteens, tokem faries sending emcees out the frame like pigeons of my x-game intoxicated demon over skeemon only hit the key to club jumping niggaz in there trucks dumping mammis look that jump and then they truck humping jumping in my whip all on my dick it's flash booties like watertheme amusement jump on her producers hit the exit, the tunes is dumb soft my lungs cough opens allergies and metaphoric parafurnelly or lyrically taking care of you who else could it be, but that nigga named Problemz alias capping camons with the flif up in your feelings be easy and fall back like an extra and don't be extra, or catch extras and see your extra large fitted whenever I spit it automaticly and quit it problemo, fowl pass me the demo's next up
(Work that shit, that shit baby Problemoz, Armaretta, Big Psych Bounce, just bounce, come on bounce that's my music, that's my music come on that's my music hip hop – that's my music)