Kaboom! Guess who stepped in the room?   Lookin' like the creature from the Black Lagoon   There's gonna be a 187 real soon   If some niggas don't give me some elbow room   I'm runnin with the Legion of Doom   Like a pack of wolves foamin at the mouth on full moon   I track range between space and time   And push back like receding hair lines   That's the essence of the effervescence   At this melodic dynamic shit progresses   A mic murderer for hire   As I sit back and watch your little gimmick backfire   Under the circumstances in any order of events   I be with sick niggaz rollin thick   Dissin the system got America mad at me   Like my name was O.J. Simpson      My style is all that and a big bag of chips with the dip   So fuck all that sensuous shit   The astronomical is comin through like the flu bombin you      My style is all that and a big bag of chips with the dip   So fuck all that sensuous shit   The astronomical is comin through like the flu bombin you      My style is all that and a big bag of chips with the dip   So fuck all that sensuous shit   The astronomical is comin through like the flu bombin you      Get off my d.k., you pitty pat bitch, stepped into the party   People wonderin' if I'm a start some shit   Prisoner of the media very often   Cause people be blowin shit out proportion   False information and bogus arithmetic   Got everybody stuck on stupid, misinterpretating shit   How could I? Why should I damage my career?   Over a nigga that'll probably bust me out of fear   Don't let your mouth get you into somethin that your ass can't get out   When I see you, I'm a pull your dreads out your scalp   Caution code red   I could kill you now but instead I'm a put this thought into your head   I got the illest crew in the industry   We could go to war for 30 years like foreign countries   Yo, slow your roll   Cause I don't really think you know with what you dealin      My style is all that and a big bag of chips with the dip   So fuck all that sensuous shit   The astronomical is comin through like the flu bombin you      Man, fuck bitches, I'm getting money   And laughin at these clown ass niggaz like they funny   The grand imperial with milky material   I be the surprise in the bottom of your cereal   One thing I gotta say, my Squad never lost it   Unlike you corny MC's out there who Farrah Fawcett   Can't rhyme, runnin your mouth all the time   While Def Squad sit back and enterprise perfect crimes   Got the Funk Lord squeezin the life out of keyboards   While each MC tear the frame out of mic chords   Yo I was in the bullpen with them niggas pullin heists   Grown ass men crying like little mice, but I'm a bounce true indeed   Cause punk ass only bagged me with two ounces of weed   Now I'm back in the city lights   And all I can think about is keepin it tight