[Intro: RICKY]
Got rhymes like a knife that I slide in the beat
You can hear it from the Polks when I ride in the street
Turning rappers to toe jam that hide in defeat
And most died when my pen collide with the sheet

[Verse 1: RICKY]
I'm the punishment of God on some "Blood & Bone" sh*t
Feeling in touch with my surroundings on some mud and stone sh*t
And I'm raising cain
Till my day's insane
And you can see the blood boil through my blazin' veins
Let's get it crackin'
I'm kiling like a beast of the sea
Busting rhymes from in the west to where the easterners be
I'll tell your b*t*h to put her dry mouthpiece to the D
'Cuz resurrecting b*t*hes' pussies is like Easter to me
I'm in the slab
And I'm cruising down the west of the ave
Looking round tryna find a couple b*t*hes to grab
Ya boi's ugly as f**k, but I'm fresh out the lab
So I'm feeling bout as confident as I ever have
I'll put a crack in your spleen
'Cuz of the lack of the CREAM
And money ain't the root of evil b*t*h, I swear that it's the lack of it
So when I brandish this gun, you're safe if you move back a bit
Or just move back a lot
Because I'll smite you with the might of Mr. Motherf**king Kakarot
Kamehameha's make them blow up like final form Cell
B*t*h I used to be dead, but I got kicked out of Hell
I hit the devil in the face so hard that he fell
Sodomized him with his horns and left the demons in awe
Then went to Heaven and attacked every angel I saw
I need a b*t*h with the complexion of a staircase
To rub that a** down on the left side of my bare face
And for any underground rapper thinking they can wreck mine
I got an immortal technique, a f**king TEC-9
And when this TEC speak, I'll leave a check sign
Right on a hit list, but if the sh*t miss, consider your head, your shoulders, and your f**king neck mine
All I got to do is have a check signed
It's killers at your door with guns that'll dissect minds
Just to teach you stupid motherf**kers to respect lines
That I spit, that's right I said lines
And not bars cuz my sh*t's dope as the sh*t a fed finds
When they raid a drug lord big enough to make headlines
In the US, so you best not get it twisted like Red Vines
Sal's creeping with a knife for necks around bedtime
The only f**king haters that we like are the dead kind

Yo, this is the bad time - boomerang, bring it all back
Flashback, live and prosper, eat well and get fat
I was Pop Dula, popular to the ma**es
I miss the E-Cla**es, rocking game with def gla**es
Rock bottom struck and threw my world off its axis
Boomerang - plan to come back like Bronx rap
Storm like the Redcoats through anything in my path
First you shine like sterling, then you broke like brick in Berlin

[Outro: Crusty Barragan]
Yeah Crusty Barragan here in this ice rink doing figure eights warming up for your momma's a**hole
F**k, I'm in this McDonald parking lot in flip flops, Steve Martin
Rick Ross put on a T-shirt before somebody comes around and t**-f**ks your a**
F**k stop the beat I think I just p*ssed myself