[From the end of the last track]
This is Funk Doctor Spot, K-Solo, comin to ya' live
1996 to 97', Funkmaster Flex!
I got tic tacs in my mouth with a big dick
But it dont matter, we representin, on some
Real shit, Def Squad, coming to ya live
Splittin these peas from a pod
Yo, K-Solo, drop 1 one time!
A breaka breaka, one-nine, site
Get off the dappa-vine, guess who's back to shine?
I wish I won the lotterry
So I could tell niggas to suck dick out of animosity
And freeze em' like pottery, and give labotomies
To all you rap colonies, and shut your million dollar investment to economy
Impossibly, might be the one in black leather
Nametag sayin "caution when wet by the track wetter"
The hash spreader, I love the grimey shit
Even my girl did grimy shit to me and I went back wit her
Three years for carryin a loaded handgun
But it's forever when a nigga BLOW! when he lands one
To your cranium, that red dot on your forehead is not cause your Arabian
Watch what you say to him! you caught up in a tight situation
I should start erasin, your whole organization for making
Wack tunes, while my whole platoon rock the basement
You couldn't come closer if I gave you my booking agent
Or producer, royalty points, 12-shot loaded luger
Even a crowd to get you sooped up, your still wack
I peel caps, on the regular
Destroy MCs ecetera, move like the Predator
Fuck you, your label, moms, and your editor
Give you two to the jugular, blood be spreaded
All on my shirt, it's the king of the blurt shittin
Bitches hit me off more than New Edition
TWIN TWIN TWIN TWIN! TWIN TWIN TWIN TWIN!
I make your heart skip a beat from the steel phyhique!