[Intro: Your Old Droog]
I said, yo, check it, check it
Yeah

[Verse 1: Your Old Droog]
Clips on top of clips spit
Gettin' to the grit, we make rounds while you nitpick
Here to send a WIP, shit hit like a rib kick
Heard you caught your wave suckin' on some Crip dick
She still chase me 'cause I'm elusive and cryptic
Life full of obstacles, I did not slip
Flipped 'em so hard, they don't even know they got flipped
And [?] got the nerve to pop shit?
One phone call, make your vinyl not ship
Hop, skip, you can't see me like Mitch McConnell's top lip
"Invest it in YOD," always been a hot stock tip
But they ain't wanna pay your dawg like Jerry Krause and Scott Pip'
Try and play me like some kinda sidekick, them fuckers hate me 'cause I don't ride dick
Only thing I ride is your bitch, a snare and a kick, somethin' melodic
No trains, car color of Crash Bandicoot
Or that [?] banana coupe, all off mechanicals
Keep it amicable, lest we respond like animals
Lot of folks is tyrannical, mo'fuckers can't manage they own lives but wanna try and manage you
Banish you to the pits of hell in a medieval style
Dungeon kind of prison, no sunshine prevention
My undying vision will not subscribe to nihilism
Got it all off repetition, rather make new history than to sit here and only make revisions
On that note, I'd like to introduce new religion
True and livin', flippin' this chicken like Blue Ribbon
Bird of prey snap the vertebrae of the stool pigeon
Wouldn't pass 'em a clam chowder in a soup kitchen
Had my head in the sky, like, "I sense superstition"