Mic check, mic check One, one, two, two, three, three Too many rappers, and there's still not enough emcees It goes three, three, two, two, one, one
It's hot here, gotta say it's so I got you right where I want Got an honest face so you turn your back When in doubt, run up your attack At one time
Yes, here we go again, give you more, nothing lesser Back on the mic is the anti-depresser Ad-Rock, no pressure, yes we need this The best is yet to come
Sometimes I wish I had a pair of blinders To cut down my point of view Maybe then I could concentrate On just living my life for You I'm just a temple
Many Men have battled, Many more will fall, Underneath the shadows, Our trust has fed them all, In the heart of every city, At the front of every war,
Well how you feelin' Ad Rock? Well I'm feelin' well Bonafide, qualified, with a story to tell Well how feelin' Mike D? Well I feel all good All day is
Jump out the window onto a parade balloon My style is iller than the goblins in Troll 2 'Cause I'm the type of emcee with the most pizazz You're stealing
Okay You talk and talk and you just can't stop But when it comes to mine, it's a crock What you say is lackluster Plus, it seems you're trying to pull
Hold up, goddammit, this thing Alright, wait, hold on, Adam This thing keeps falling off Woo, doing it big, ah-ah I'm the lyrical, mathematical genius
Now it's suffice to say that I'm nicer Nice in the cut and yes, I'm the slicer Or should I say I'm the filet-er I hate the game, I hate the player But
On and on to the break of dawn On and on to the break of dawn On and on to the break of dawn On and on to the break of dawn Now let me introduce myself
Put this on a Zip disk, send it to your lawyer File me under 'Funky' Like sipping lemonade and Arnold Palmer's Big holiday parties like Dolly Partner
Yes, yes, yes Ill out the gate, I set it off I suppose you're exposed so get lost You break off, cut all connections Join the sucker emcee witness protection
Ah shit. Woah, what? Aaaaand front (front), back (back) sucker than a snack pack, I (I) got (got) lawn mower whack (whack), Get (get) down (down) grade
Say it To the heart of the matter, the mic I shatter Say cold in the mic and make your teeth chatter You climb the corporate ladder to make your pocket
It would be the best Everyone could go to hell Turn into yourself Always someone else Don't need sympathy Smile it's nothing but teeth I'll keep my integrity
Shut the fuck up, take the pain You can never understand I'm the one, you rejected I'm the one, you wont forget While you sleep, I destroy your world
Hate is reality, hate is reality Hate is reality, hate is reality Don't you know God hates? Hate is reality, hate is reality Hate is reality Don't you