(See look look)
  I grab the mic and start breakin down niggas
  wit out no problem
  broadcastin live from the bottom/aint no mic checkin worse/
  kick some rhymes if you got/but if it's wack
  I draw back the cap for the peelin
  should of stuck to rock dealin
  cuz it's the blood stealin/super vill..
  chill..stayin high like the ceilin
  see there aint enough room for the both of us
  see it's a showdown/throw down
  your best style I'll bust
  (yo)I write rhymes that make niggas throw they sets up
  couldn't hold my style if you had a pair of handcuffs
  In all disrespect
  I'll snatch you by your neck
  and do a suplex and step
  so nigga you can check my credentials
  just hard rhymes and instrumentals
  Xzhibit smash you wit a dental
  and a loaded pistol
  no longer lookin in the window
  I'll bust a field wit indo
  killin quarts of beer
  Sadie's outta here...
  
  Verse Two: MC Breeze
  
  Like a fuze/start spreadin the news
  its 94 and Breeze is givin niggas the blues
  I paid my dues/and now it's time to go on to the next mode
  make room for the kaboom/cuz I'm about to explode
  and drop bombs like a B1/cops I seize none
  and niggas step up/I soak emcseason
  3 seconds to detinate/you betta evacuate
  no time to hesitate/you fuckin featherweight
  I aint the type to pic up the mic
  and catch the stage fright
  I'll pull a gauge if I aint paid right
  to the promoters on tour
  short me a buck and a buckshot and the barrel is yours!
  I'm psycho pathic like Manson
  aint wit the dancin
  but still I get more Cheers than Ted Danson
  more dough than Marino or roles than Pacino
  you beatin me? that's only in your dreams ho
  I'm not sayin I'm unbeatable/I'm sayin I'm untouchable
  livin comfortable just like a Huxtable
  plus I'm rollin wit the cross roads
  movin fast foward/while you other suckas
  stuck in a pause mode
  I goes deep like a great white
  but I'm a stay black
  no matter how high the pay stacks
  or if my rep gets bigger
  you might get take this nigga out the ghetto
  but not the ghetto out this nigga.....
  
  Verse Three: J-Ro, Tash
  
  For the balls basketballs
  microphones gassin grass(hey)
  some of the few things J-Ro likes to pass
  93 mandingo/94 I'm the pharoah
  cuz I'm b-bbad to the bone marrow
  I get wild
  wit more styles than the martial arts
  I need weed
  I roll more grass than golf carts
  April 92 you no the Ro was a looter
  now I'm writin raps on my lab-top computer
  J-Ro the tittie fiend/rap dean/wearin green
  been on the scene/since the age of 13
  I learned I had to earn the mic
  now's my turn
  I got Furious Styles like Larry Fishburne...
  
  Wit da bitches tunin me in
  like it's the Young and the Restless
  next up to bust my shit
  from the L-I-K-S's
  yes it's the freshest
  wit lyrics rough around the edges
  I'll smoke you on the mic
  like a pack of Benson Hedges
  But..hold up wait
  I'll bust rhymes that'll circulate
  that'll wake yo punk ass up like MC Eiht
  cuz I be rockin rhymes
  since the roof was on fire
  so point me to the bitch who's the dopest butterflyer
  I'll make her break it down like she Patra when I catch ya
  Broadway is on the tables
  while I throw these lyrica atcha
  so....slow down before ya fuck wit my sound
  you betta do the hokey pokey
  and turn ya self around...