I like ot rip out my tounge and spit the black magic,
and I'm supposed to be fucking some crack addict without a rubber,
and I already got a baby by her mother?
they say I'm a sci-fi wizard of sorts,
and my mama, she was a banshee, she wasdrowned by the courts,
they say my little brother Jamie hes dead in a grave and I'm all alone and afraid,
and everythin I gave has been so underestimated I've been hated by generations,
for having conversations with people who didn't make it, how could I fake it?
I'm a monster remember me? the weirdo with an axe from another galaxy,
I keep a blender in my kitchen filled to the rim with blood,
and spit suspitions of me drinking it up,
so it's fucked, scattered stones, get out my kool aid,
I'm blasting away from all you haters, hit me up on my two way,
(Chorus X4)
Beside some bullshit falling down, I'm okay,
Speculation has it that I'm a drunk and a drug addict,
a shit talker always trying to start static,
a borderline faggot with long fingernails,
either that or he's a coke head but I don't think he cares,
speculation has it that I already engaged in sexually fantasies with me and Gwen Stefani,
a video taping internet downlaods,
speculations is called is the one who gets boned,
I can't escape it, make it, or fake it out,
look in your face as if I don't know what you're talking bout,
speculation you heard it I don't spit it on no bodies shit, but no don't hate me,
many mouths to feed and many personalities, and me lookind to got P-A-I-D,
is it a lie or is it true?
you can put that on our skills they stay snug like my batman suit,
(ChorusX4)
smash the flash I have th plastic backing,
specualation and hateration, me and Twiztid don't give a...
mistaking, papered up, smashing independantly,
with a dedicated as fanbase, and don't a mother fucker hear from me,
speculation see, they just don't know,
see I be rappin to fast, they be listening too slow,
I be spittin sluggish, E-40 spittin thuggish,
E-40 be representing the bottery up in the cop, go t the dirty poppin,
ain't no stopping a pimp, walk with a limp
elbows on bimp, flopping on hips, sippin on sip, sippin on sip,
dippin and skating and bounce to this shit,
me and Twiztid be twisted, me and Twizted be gone,
me and Twiztid be blisted, me and Twizrid be stoned,
gone on our head, dead, dead wrong,
smoking turle beating out chests like KIng Kong,
conversating acting and poking, thats how its hanging today,
trying to persuade this liqour into giving me brain.
(Chorus X4)