"You bunch of lame, disgusting, rubberneck perverts" - movie sample

[Intro: King Just]

Killah Hill, we back, 10304, back to settle the score
His Royal High, King Just, you ain't ready for it
Shaolin, baby, do it right this time up


[King Just]
Aiyo, ain't no rapper you know can go toe to toe

And if so, yo they lying on the low
Damn dirty shame, I put work in the game
Old Eddie Kane that make your main rapper look lame

Fame wasn't worth the course for what I brought
Fifth borough, stay thorough, Shaolin, New York
Fly walk %#@!, Ted DiBiase handle

Distribute soup, like my name was Melvin Campbell
Rock a banjo in a western country, bop disco
Straight cowboys wilding out to heya hoe

With a ten gallon hat and six shooters going 'bow bow'
No where to go though, you in the smoking section
Like a compass with no dial, no direction

Lonely child with parent, who need attention
I'm benching more than your brain lift just
Scared straight, %#@!, I leave 'em straight scared stiff

I'm Mister Good Time, but it seems they wanna take mine
I guess that's why mutha$#&@as do hate crimes
Shine like the savage son, I ain't the average one

I'll attack like Atila the Hun
Move rhymes like ya'll ^!$$%s move jums
And stay getting buns without giving up the ones

All hail son, you ain't ready for the invasion
Underground sound that pa-pow in the ba!@&(t
Replacement, starts here, no fame, no fortune, no gear

No fair, we hold it down here, clear
Electrical shock voltage, this raise my modern soldiers
Or watch 'em, hawk like a vulture

Bald eagle Knieval, getting drunk at the Regal Beagle
That's the rendesvous cookoo poo, so do you, I said no, do me
Six months later, (*##$ winding up a groupie

Keep a hooptie, and if I'm the %#@!, then I'm dookie
What LP for? A secure life whoopie
Haduken, ^!$$%s can't do what I'm doing

Til you at your own album release, and ^!$$%s booing
I'm moving your career with, one dart here
Put you on the back of the bus with no car fare

Best they trash rappers, smash you with the goggles
Read the sign right there, yeah, 'beware of starving artists'
I got this, covered like, New York Under

With so much bread that'll make a ^!$$% wonder
How I made it to be the greatest and drop the latest
On some Star and Bucwild %#@!, kid, I love them haters

Faders like the hut or exclusive cuts
Balance a Heineken glass on that big $$# butt
Strut like Mr. Wonderful, Paul Orndorff

It's a domino effect, they gon' all fall off
Soft like two big !@(&, on your tube
Mr. West Indian'll cook us all without food

Rude like Ravishing Rick, the Mystics'll have the
Flavorest flavor, the kid ballistics
Rip this, like the track was on me

BK brick everyday, you still buying four G
Cross me, and I hang that $$# alive
I'm big head of the company, hours is 9 to 5

And have you repeat it, just in case you ain't hear it
Get on some bull%#@!, and still drop you for the touch terrace
You in the zoo, you think I can be touched by you, you & you

Stop sniffing glue, whatevers that you do
Boo, I got you, scared to death, you need to quit them cigarettes
You ain't got enough breath left to test the wreck

And it's profess', I suggest, that you rest
Retire, before I set the stage on fire
You Jim Carrey rappers is all 'liar, liars'

Oscar the Meyer this, Oliver Twist'll
Have that %#@! roll before that $$# can take the %#@!
%#@!...