[Efemjay]
Lyrics, somebody want lyrics? I got a myriad
My flow is nasty like a bull-dyke's period
It's straight up eerie, kid; the way I rip and flip a verse
Sicker than your grandma dressed up as a stripper-nurse
You can ask my man The Chancellor, he's happy to confirm it
I'm never going out, I'm in the house like a hermit
Take your rhyme book and burn it, kid, you'll never build a legacy
With lyrics ill-conceived like an anal-sex pregnancy
[The Chancellor]
I took a small hiatus, I got a little famous
I went through different stages but still, I am the greatest
On the M.I.C., you know me, I'm Chance Nasty
Came back to rap, just to tickle your fancy
You can't see, Chance Nasty and Flash Master
Encroaching on your airwaves like a natural disaster
You rat bastard, we're back on the scene
Got you spazzing out like Ralphie cracking out for Ovaltine
[Efemjay]
Suckers step to me to try to get some fame
I kick ass and take names, knock pussy walls out the frames
I don't play games with the dames, I will destroy a bitch
Out to get that money like Governor Blagojevich
You know I keep it gutter, can I please have my ghetto pass
I used to watch The Sopranos just to see Meadow's ass
I rock a metal flask full of vodka when I'm parasailin'
I'm stupid off the dome like my name was Sarah Palin
[The Chancellor]
It's indifferent to me, if I see any currency
Me? I'm puffin trees and you haters is irking me
Shirking me off as that next cracker rapper
Keep talking that shit, I'll make your head-piece splatter
I'm fresh, dressed, my style is so impeccable
And around here, Timbs and bling are unacceptable
You got no style, you don't know how to jet set
I'm rocking throwbacks for teams that don't exist yet
[Hook]
"Reunited" / "My motherfucking boy" / "Booger D"
"Flash Master" / "Live in the place to be" (x2)

[Efemjay]
I'm blowing up the spot like a motherfucking meth head
I'm the illest rapper since Eazy-E was on his death bed
I'm tested, never fold under pressure
My rhymes are off the hook like the clothes on your dresser
With the flows that you treasure and the beats that knock
I got more styles that wrinkles on Milton Berle's cock
One ill ass line, yo, for each measure
I get the dough, then I'm out like Heath Ledger
[The Chancellor]
Ay yo we're taking it back, to the roots of the game
Where lyricism outweighs riches and fame
Y'all sound the same, all y'all lame ass copy-catters
How the fuck you got the nerve to call yourselves rappers
We're the grandmasters, and we're ashamed of what we seeing
I could freestyle better than your written shit when I'm peeing
Emceeing's in my blood, I'm 'a rhyme 'til I die
So if you're digging what im spitting throw your hands up high
[Efemjay]
You want to battle me but your shit is pre-written
Pathetic, like a flea-bitten wee kitten
You's a pussy motherfucker, you probably pee sittin'
You just can't fuck with the shit I be spittin'
Off the dome or with the pen, yo, I'm nice with my mine
Turn lyrics into water like Christ with wine
She got a nice behind, but she wack from the front
So I hit it from the back, put my sac in her cunt, ungh!
[The Chancellor]
It's elementary, we be, the epitome
In the hip hop industry we're going down in history
Is that a mystery? nah, it's actual facts son
We came up in the sticks, half hour from Jackson
You're wack, son, you know you can't even hold a candle
This Rollin Tribe shit is just too much for you to handle
It's just a sample, of some next level shit
Like Smooth B said, we come back with more hits
[Hook] x2