Verse One: E-Swift I stop by the club, cuz it ain't shit else to do it I'm on the guestlist, it's E-Swift plus two Stepped to the bar, cuz, it's a bad habit Open mic night, so, the Liks gots to grab it Check the mic, it sounds tight so I guess we might rock the motherfucker all night yo The niggaz went wild, the hoes went crazy We dropped the microphone than we Swayze Verse Two: J-Ro Oooh don't I sound great when I down a black eighth My style is much hotter than the enchilada plate My name is James but the girls call me God when I'm humpin I should get a gold medal for broad jumpin Rappers, talkin bout, back to the old school You never shoulda left in the first place fool Now everybody wants to be a prophet But I won't quit rhymin bout my dick so get off it You put a rhyme together but I only dismantle it So gimme a high-five cause you juts can't handle it If rap was a swimming pool I'd climb to the top Plus a triple-back, hand me the mic and watch the belly flop Dagnabit, I got a bad habit It don't matter where I'm at I seen a booty and I grab it So niggaz step back before you get lit I'm a grown motherfuckin man and you can't tell me shit Chorus: repeat 2X You can't tell me shit, you can't tell me a hot damn thing You can't tell me shit, you can't tell me shit Verse Three: J-Ro I rock you like Lenny Kravitz, or Nirvana I'm puttin suckers on pause like a comma I never ape crazy act but I got the yapes a superhero From the ghetto puttin creases in my capes (Up up up and away, J-Ro!!) I got more hoes than a canyon got echoes I'm rougher than Bluto, tougher than a callous My number one football team is Dallas Cowboys, now boys, can't you see I'm greater than Your grandpops is my number one fan You get ran on the court you dribble like Manute Bol You try to take it to the hole *crowd roars* get that shit outta here I'm more gifted than Christmas morning I pull out a pen and write a rhyme when I'm boning Me I'm tripping, let me light my Phillie blunt Oh there goes my beeper, what the hell do Billy want [Yo whassup J?] Man I quit selling weed [No I need a funky break] Well I got what you need Chorus Verse Four: J-Ro You hittin corners with the Alkies seen you pull-out cuz you great The crew who got another tape that's bumpin harder, save it! Rhythm and blues blew a fuse, and now it ain't the same
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