[Spoken: Se7en (1995) Samples]
"He cuts the skin off the tips of his fingers. That's why we couldn't find one single usable print in his apartment. Looks like he's been doing it for quite some time."
"What about the trace on his bank accounts, and the guns?"
"So far everything's a dead end. No credit history, no employment records. His bank account's only five years old, and it was started with cash. We're even trying to trace his furniture. About the only thing we know about that guy right now is he's independently wealthy, well-educated, and totally insane."
"Because he's John Doe by choice."
"Okay. So when do we get to question?"

[Intro]
NATAS
NATAS, uh
N***a
What, what, n***a
Gonna hit you with the shit
[?] Esham, right there, n***a

[Verse 1: Esham]
Just do your thang, bang the slang (That's right)
If you can't buy the whole chicken fuck the wing (Say what)
You wanna fuck that bitch 'cause she's a freak (That's right)
I'll break a ho down like Iron Sheik (That's right)
My style is fantastic, stretch like elastic (Uh)
N***a you just plastic, don't get your ass kicked (Yeah)
These rhymes that I bust are second to none (That's right)
Magnify my shit so you can feel the sun (That's right)
Esham AKA Bruce Wayne (Uh)
Kick Superman, ass-fuck Lois Lane (Uh)
Lookin' at my roadie it's about that time (Time)
A style like mine is genuine
I'll make a bitch like Brandy suck my dick and diss her (Bitch)
Fuck the ho on the floor and don't have to kiss her (Uh)
I been fuckin' these hoes since way back
Fuck the [?] pussy hangin' off the brat (That's right)
Make n***as bow down with the cash and cane
I could give a fuck less, and y'all know my name
I move twenty-five birds on the streets of the D (What)
And if a n***a get mail he ain't got it like me (What)
You see I do not rob, I have no job (Come on)
I sell rap records, and I run with the mob (Yeah)
So if you talkin' about fuckin' then you talkin' some shit (Yeah)
You need to take your ass home if you ain't suckin' no dick
[Chorus]
Just do it, just do it
Just do it, do it, do, do it (Uh, that's right)
Just do it, just do it (Just do it, bitch)
Just do it, do it, do, do it (Like this)

[Verse 2: Mastamind]
When you're rich you got friends, when you're poor you're alone
No n***as to smoke with, no hoes to bone
The shit goes on, backstabbers in my face
Smiling knowing they don't wanna see me in the first place
The world is cold, get your gear for the winter
My heart is so cold, like Detroit in December
Remember the time like [?] when
You said Mastamind wasn't shit but the great pretender
I'm finna ride on these n***as now
With a 1987 young boy clippin' style
Uh, I'm strictly business, can I get a witness
Did you see them NATAS n***as ridin' off with the quickness
With the hoes in the hood on the dick
Old school flames see me now, I make 'em sick
The mind control of Mastamind and [?]
Come to Detroit and let me show ya how you get over
Pay your dues and stay with trues
And never let the money get away from you
[Chorus]
Just do it, just do it (That's right)
Just do it, just do it
Just do it, just do it
Just do it, do it, do, do it (Uh, yeah, just do it)

[Verse 3: Esham]
I ain't no ho, I used to let the blunt smoke (That's right)
Now I puff it when I'm finished make sure I choke (What is you)
I be the freestyle fanatic [?] acrobatic
My nine milli a-matic [?] you static
The blunt smoke I toke, the ill shit I wrote
The murder Mastamind behind and cut throat (What)
The style be so ugly as Biggie
And Chef Boyardee cooked up a hoagie
My dope packs and stacks are stacked [?]
Big bloody Seven Mile ridin', Bens slidin' (That's right)
N***as pay attention, murder composition (What)
For me and my n***as ain't no competition
I hip to the hop and I hop to the hip
Still tote the nine milli with the extra clip (What)
I'll let you wipe the style like a chocolate chip (That's right)
So next time I'll know whose ass to whip

[Chorus]
Just do it, just do it
Just do it, do it, do, do it
Just do it, just do it
Just do it, do it, do, do it