Here's my advice to all amateurs planin' to give a performace   Speak up, and keep the act movin'      Servin' the role, a sole step child   Talk of C.C. or keep sleepin'   While wakin' up to noise of 3rd B A S S, bass   Success is butter for Serch's space      Spoken slang gets played like the lottery   Your lyrics are incorrect, so you step to me   Lookin' for the key to release that first piece   Three times two is six, Pete is one-three      I'm the other half, known as the other trey   Tourin' to wild screams, the third son's born   Swarm to the lyrics 'cause Serch is your father   Screamin' "Hey ladies", why bother?      Sons, slim ones flee from the 3rd   Words, spoken, a silver spoon stuck in the throat   Young useless, lyrically careless   Rhyme revolves around modes of mindless      If everyone spoke of stick-up, it's pick of a beast'   Prone to a lick of a waste   Taste the flav' of the original   Orphaned trio, abandoned by lyrical      Through us, the echelon exposed with the roll with no soul   Counterfeit style, born sworn and sold   Out with high voice distorted   If a beast to wish play fetus, I'd have him aborted      Put to bed, three kids to a third track   Cap the front and grip, when they heard that   The crew from the L.Q. stepped to the Club Mars   Shook the beast and soon to be dubbed stars      Starrin' roles stone-faced from the brothers   Ludicrous whinin', meanin' when the others   Stand by 'em, while they take the fall   The beast now lives in the capital      Record wrecks sets, Def Jam a true wrecker   The label is nothin' but MC Black 'n' Decker   Three boys buggin' to the A.M   You step to the Serch and I slam      Negative mind, paid as snakes who can't rhyme   Play the dude it's sucker time   I stand I take a bust in my nut   And gave birth to three bastard sons      A record label, a king to 4th letter   Passin phases, non-legitimate trendsetters   Pop figures who figured they'd get paid   Exploitin' art the black man made      Played out hardcore flaws, step to stage   Your biggest fan, nine years of age   Broke out 'cause the swindler took your Ducat   No talent on the tune, you might as well suck it      Yo Serch, you know about that slum I'm speakin' on?   Word is Bond Pete, school 'em   You know about that silver spoon havin'   Buckshot acne showin', L.A. weak-ass sellout      Non-legitimate, tip-doggin', Jethro pseudo intellectual   Dust-smokin', pretty boy playwrite posin'   Folks wiggin', whinin' annoyin' Def Jam reject Devil   White bread no money havin' slum village people clonin' step children      Sam sever, serve the rest   Yo Sam, school 'em   He is stupid but he knows that he is stupid   And that, almost makes him smart let's listen