Yo I tell you niggas what   You better stay home and lay your ass in the cut   I'm goin' for heads, lay you for dead, foldin' emcees like bedspread   And you ain't had this much milk since you was breastfed      Galleons on courts for sports, I bust bubbles on the double   Destroyin' these fools who wanna give me trouble   Ball with stuffle, six feet, women be lovin' it   Brothers be thinkin o' stickin' but I be shovin' it      Ready, unload with fat tracks from lootkids   Doin' my thang since 16 in '86   Hey yo, sayin' that the West ain't it   Nigga, I'll smack you in your mouth for that shit      Let me show you what I claim, I'm doin' my thang   But everybody out in Cali don't gangbang   You better open up them mic's and get out my face   Give me some space, better break out them old Nikes      You better run for the crib 'cause run in your jigs   I'll send you home with a broke back and cracked whig   Microphone's in control, so ready explode   Motherfuckers need to punch up the flexcode      Run the line   Run the line   Run the line   Run the line   Run the line   Run the line   Run the line      Heaven forbid, I rip kids, get they face blown   Bring 'em in packs, and I could rip 'em by the caseload   Ready explode on contact for that contract   Flash these lyrics and ready for mic-combat      Who wanna step to get a rep playin' double jet   Me and my man be on these tracks at the inner sect   Mass confuse, hit your fellas off with bad news   Tell 'em you tried but I just blew you out your damn shoes      Here's this mic, you can praise it if you need to   Should've been there when your brother really needed you   It's too late, had to blast off like 38's   Food for thought but don't be eatin' of no dirty plates      I keep it clean and always on the uppernut   Nigga, you soft and your rhymes need the toughin'-up   No gun chatter on the platter 'cause it doesn't matter   Me and the Wolf collaborate just to make it fatter      You better scatter like the roaches with the lights on   I tell these niggas don't you bother turn them mics on   Goin' deep like quarterbacks on they long throw   And Time Waits For No Man label Stones Throw      The LP, in '97 you'll be seein' me   Gradual shots to your nut got you seein' three   I'm runnin' rhymes while the clock is steady runnin' time   Crab emcees get in your block to start run in lines      Run the line   Run the line   Run the line   Run the line   Run the line   Run the line   Run the line      Comin' in thirst, brothers shouldn't say another word   Kickin' your rhymes but they was verses already heard   Give me respect, it be the Ras with the triple threat   Smash eject, 'cause already know what's comin' next      So I predict that all these brothers goin' to be ridin' dicks   Break out the axe because it's time that you get 86   Playin' these scrubs in nightclubs like they legendary   I'm first class and everybody else is secondary      But don't you worry, all these brothers got your vision blurry   Ready to fix your cateracts with the fattest tracks   Keep it intact with screws, roll with tight tools   And now you missin' and your face is on tonight's news      So pay your dues, don't nobody make it overnight   You heard the singleand you thought that it was overwrite   No, 'cause I can do it to you every time   Me and Peanut Butter Wolf gotta run 'em lines      Run the line   Run the line   Run the line   Run the line   Run the line   Run the line   Run the line