Yeah, check it out now (uhh uhh uhh)   Rah Digga y'all, Dirty Harriet (uhh!)   Kweli, Xzibit, new millenium! (C'mon, check it)      One, two, three, four   Grimy bitch stomp the bogey outside your front door (yeah)   Puffin on Goodie, eatin tuna and rye   Blow the spot with some old school shit from junior high (HEYYY!)   One, two, three, four   Jersey's finest in the house, punchlines and metaphors   Make your foul ice grill, thug grimy on the real   Puttin heads to bed like Hennessey and NyQuil      Convertible style, still had the heat knockin   Bumpin shit from way back with my man beatboxin   Shootin the breeze, see I'm nice with these   You'll be suckin it down like fast food high C's   Type of rap bitch that love underground classics   Gettin more green than that nigga St. Patrick   Makin wack rappers go and merc the set   Better off behind a desk tryin to surf the net   Cause I be adamant, kill 'em when my joints get added in   Worse than boric acid in your project cabinet   Dirty Harriet, increase the fanbases   Leavin non writin cats stuck on the plantations   Mini-skirts with tights, eatin lunch with whites   Leave the party over here like they Israelites   Got Cali Brooks critics, Ta' Kweli, Xzibit   Gonna rock shit down like he can't get no visits      One, two, three, four   Rock the whole world like the Rolling Stone tour (AH-AHHH!)   Raw your wack set is faker than a bomb threat   By a nervous terrorist who's so scared that his palms wet   One, two, three, four   The stuff legends are made of, urban folklore   Like Jim Morrison we break on through   Before I care about your take on me, we take on you      Yo, yo, yo   We bring it straight to your face from the start, yo   Rage Against the Machine, break it apart   Might be over your head, but it's straight from the heart   I show my love in the light while y'all hate in the dark   Straight to apocalypse is where I'm takin the art   Givin niggaz battle scars, always makin' my mark   You fakin the part of gangster, til niggaz break in your spot   You straight bitch whether I say it or not   Shit is hot, spittin flames on the track   Put our town's names on the map   From now until we fadin to black   Where we at? Thug rebels love metal clubs ghetto   When the slugs let go like Frankie Beverly   Forever we stack notes like the treasury, flow heavenly   Get you high on speech laced with obscenity   Niggaz be gassed like Cipher Sounds, and need rescue remedy   Then fall the fuck off like limbs affected with leprosy      One, two, three, four   Why the fuck can't MC's MC no more?   Hardcore til somebody put me under the ground   With a dick in your ear, still couldn't fuck with my sound   AllOne, two, three, four   Takin me straight to the weed spot, then to the liquor sto'   "Gimme Some Mo'" like Busta Bus', who do you trust?   Swingin through, your favorite neighborhood lush      I'm irrate, usin your body for live bait   Xzibit rockin them heavy gems you can't take   Dilate, cock back the weight, spread hate   Heavy metal we settle and set shit straight   Hit gates in my younger days, from the policeman   Me and my clan used to dance thicker than quicksand   Supply and demand the hand is quicker than the eye   Find some chickens to fry, while you find it hard to stick to your lie   I see through the tricks, destroy the facade   Your little lungs is too weak to hotbox with God   Rah Digga, First Lady of the Flipmode Squad   Gotta be hard like a young nigga walkin the yard   For the first time, we ain't the niggaz you let shine   Expect mines to blow lines like coke everytime   I'm an Alkaholik nigga so I finish the fifth   You at the front door bitchin because you ain't on the list      It's like One, two, three, four   Yeah (ohhhhhhh) hehehe (aight y'all, aight y'all )   Yeah (here we go)   One, two, three, four