"Oh my God!" There's a million MCs that claim they want some

But see I create sounds that make your ears go numb

Peace to Sayres Ave., yeah you know how we go

My best friend Steven at the Home Depot

Laurelton is in the house, I can't forget Southside

Walk past MCs like that girl did to Pharcyde

I'm labeled as the cat's meow, the MC with the know-how

Act like you know, not now but right now

Beast of the East, on MCs I have a feast

I'd eat that ass like quiche, crack a smile like Shanice

Straight outta Jamaica, seen? Jamaica, Queens

But you could find me out in Georgia, or anywhere in between

Now if my partners don't look good, Malik won't look good

If Malik don't look good, then Quest won't look good

If the Quest don't look good, then Queens won't look good

But since the sounds are universal, New York won't look good

Picture Phife losing a battle, come on, get off it

Put down the microphone son, surrender, forfeit

Did I hear something 'bout a crew? What they wanna do?

You better call Mr. Babyface so he can bring out the cool in you

Or it'll be a sad love song being sung by Toni Braxton

And I'll dissect you like a fraction

Oh, you wannabe top cat MCs, I'll pop you like a zit

You wanna be the champ, you more like Chief Some-***

Big up myself every time when it comes to this

MCs be running scared as if they're watching the Exorcist

I kick more game than a crackhead from Hempstead

My styles are milk, man, you'd think that I was breast-fed

You know the steelo when the diggy Dawg is on the scene

I dedicate this to all the MCs outta Queens

That goes for Onyx, LL, Run DMC

Akinyele, Nasty Nas and the Extra P

You need a chart, straight up and down man, there ain't no other

Nuff respect to all my peeps that made the album cover

Yo, Tip don't worry none you know I get the party jumping

Get on the mic and break 'em off a little little something

Yo, Tip don't worry none you know I gets the party jumping

Get on the mic my man and break 'em off a little something "Oh my God!" We got the funk doody don ***, clearly it's the bomb ***

So recognize me, kids memorize me

Everyday, I be scrounging, really I be lounging

I play the down low, very very incognito

Aries is my sign, I know that I can rhyme

Sometimes I rhyme in riddles, plus I make the honeys wiggle

Intellect is the major, some heads like to wager

The skills on the hill, overlooking dollar bills

Man, you're crazy, thinking you can phase me

The Ab doesn't study mere nonsense, money

Life seems to need me, MCs seem too cheesy

With their doody ass renditions of defeating competition

I rock to the roll man, yes, I'm a soul man

Bet your bottom dollar Vinia will make you holler

As you stand at attention, did I forget to mention

MCs will give me twenty if I sense that they act funny

Lyrics are abundant, right there, I sound redundant

Just mentioning the fact that the area is fat

I dwell in the under, so honey it's no wonder

That I get plenty of tail, well I even get white

I'mma bet hitting head crack, there money, take that

Breaking niggas off, cut their bank, then I'm off

While my Nikes match my Lo hat, beat joint is mad fat

Got the cutter of the box if a kid think he's ox

For tier means creator, the poetry relator

It's hemmed like Betsy Ross, let me tell you who's the boss "Oh my God!"