( Verse One )

Night time upon us, gotta go for paper like we want it
Looks like rain, heard a storm was forming
Lightning strike clock towers when I'm recording
We're back to the future, flux capacitor format
Got verbal lessons, sound compressions and all that
Light-years ahead of cats whenever we orbit
(Yeah)
I still shine glorious, we packin' in shows
You couldn't rock the same floor as us
East coast, West coast, Detroit to Florida
Killing crowds, my booking agent a part-time coroner
I spit a bar, open up the door for us
Walking over dudes who need to pick their fuckin' chorus up
When you see us coming don't start frontin'
Just cop a CD, ticket or somethin'
(Yeah)
I'm still Rev' Runnin'
Got your girl sweatin', just when you think you looking stunning

( Chorus )

( Verse Two )

Brain splurgin' criminal thoughts, we in the 4X4, dirty
We 'bout to merge God, waitin' on my connect from Jersey
Pissed off, but his weight Big Game James Worthy
So sit pa', listen to the Sirius satellite radio
Guaranteed after this, we gonna gross doe
Blow some, spend some cream out in Acapulco
Vacate, surrounded by dames in their open-toe sandals
Dust off the Chamberlain manual
Game can score a hundred so I run it
106 and Park interviews, take you back to Teen Summit
Hold up wait, here we go, that's him
In the '94 Isuzu Amigo, get the bankroll
This here's official, make moves like Tony and Frank
Built a foundation, also how I copped that link
So now we can't let this boat sink, just came out my think tank
I need at least ten thousand grams for my Ben Frank's

( Chorus )

( Verse Three )

Midnight merchant, how I used to work it, I was perfect
Touchin' heads, fiends called me the brain surgeon
Now I'm up in the hills, splittin' Garcia's, no Phill's
Splurgin', burpin' Bourbon, puff Purple, networking
Domino effect, just landed a spot out in Scotland Neck
The plain trailer with the white wooden steps
Me and crimey, we can hold it ourself
He 5'11, look like the light-skin Omar Epps
He got a saw-off by the door, I got the twins on the shelf
In the back of the lab, see we movin' that meth
We got that glass-grade shit, guaranteed to hit
Take eight hours to cook so we put the plasma screen in
Channel 6, Chi' town host the Knicks
D' Rose is out, Amare's back, Melo got new kicks
Get our game on while others still riding the bench
Tellin' kids this ain't for you, get the Hell from our fence

( Chorus )