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[Verse 1: Your Old Droog]

[Verse 2: Tha God Fahim]
I gotta get it, uh— I gotta get it
You wanna wear the shoe? Then fit it or forget it
We run them numbers up infinite; yeah, I did it
I took a break, but it was just a couple minutes
Cookin' up raps, I let it sizzle on the skillet, uh
The simple fact is that I'm good without the practice
I'm scorchin' like the desert and I'm on point like a cactus
I'm on the atlas; I held up many mics for captive
I'ma get active; I can show you about what rap is
Another chapter; makin' emcees future blacker
I'm dressed in dapper, 'bout my buccaneers like Tampa
Tеarin' holes in atmosphere, this is anothеr rapture
Me and Droog on another moon
I cause a typhoon and bring the doom, this just another groove
Smooth