| Smoke sumthin' |
| yeah nigga |
| Kurupt Young Gotti |
| Cypress Hill |
| Westcoast |
| From bouncing and banging |
| Throw them hands up high |
| And blast to the sky |
| Blast on everything you see |
| Cos we don’t give a fuck |
| And blast to the sky |
| This is more than warfare this is Armageddon |
| Where the thoughts and intellect get threatened |
| Where the hostile become hostages |
| Wrapped and packed like sausages |
| My vocals soothe the air like voices and throat lozengers |
| Tucked in cottages, wondering where the cabbages |
| Lavishes, sold to the worst of savages |
| Fabulous, ilaverious, praises amazes |
| Stuns and sparks, throats like arcs |
| Lights the dark, brainwaves conveys |
| So I know what u thinking |
| You show what u thinking |
| Add up the currents and volts |
| Erase everything u thought u thought u thought |
| Busters look just like me Mistake the launch quakes and get bust by me Push on nigga or get pushed over |
| Subtle soldiers, sculptures, nigga we vultures |
| Super ninjas hitting muthafuckas like supernovas |
| Swift hands, little nigga with super shoulders |
| I’ma Supersoak one of u set back niggaz |
| So for the game’s sake nigga GET BACK NIGGAZ |
| Or get launched off on niggaz |
| What you say Muggs? Man we don’t love yall bitches |