Yeah, for the motherf*ckin 2000
In this mother
Straight from Houston, Tex
The motherf*ckin Dr. Dooom
I'm shuttin rappers down like Guiliani shut down strip clubs
Turnin your fake gangster hardcore stories
Into some Mickey Mouse, Teletubbies sh*t
Y'all n*ggas need to quit, stop pullin your silicone tits
And this city is my town
Don't even f*ckin tryin to say a fly rhyme
I'm holdin posessions you don't own
And your cellular phone don't even f*ckin roam
Y'all got the nerve to be standin in the hot rap zone
Against somethin you can't afford
Rappers be soundin bored at the show
I need to start pullin your b*tch-ass f*ckin extension cord
Suckers be fakers, ATM pullin frauds
I'm sendin two men, out to boo men
Quick to get to y'all n*ggas like Western Union
I'm comin like the fax machine
I pour it on your whole team
Y'all n*ggas ain't got time to scheme
I'm out to shatter your f*ckin rap dreams
Top to bottom, any angle, whatever your bullsh*t mind think
Your words gon' tangle
Sound like sh*t on a Tascan mix
A bunch of y'all tracks need to be fixed
Professionally, you sound like the dog Toto
When I see Flex, I'ma ask him
Why he playin a lot of records from a bunch of homos
With feminine vocals
I catch n*ggas when clubs are packed, rubbin elbows
Tryin to whisper sh*t in ugly b*tches earlobes
Dr. Dooom callin wack n*ggas houses from the Radisson hotel room
Penthouse suites, b*tch n*ggas get 911 beeps
I'm always hearin more softest MC's talk sh*t about the streets
f*ck your seedy impression of pain
Ninety-nine percent of your sh*t was normal
One percent sound strange
A&R's be suckin a lot of di*k
And spreadin they ass cheeks to get the hits