Intro: I am Captain of Egor Hahahaha, this nigga is doin impressions! He's doin impressions! Hi Tremaine...
Yo Threat, you ready? (yeah) Sup?
Verse One: Threat
Who is you nigga who is you? I know you from somewhere (where you from) The Zoo Why you got beef with my click, fuck you punk bitch And fuck you too, this is L.A. Zoo And we don't give a mad fuck about you sorry ass suckers Tick tock chrome off that fake gold watch Faster bastard don't make me have to plaster Players, get smoked with my bare hands Got the shit that sway in a wicked way Like Tash and J, motherfuckin Ro hoe Down with E-Swift and the Alkaholik crew And to my homies this Bud's for you Who is dem niggas
Verse Two: E-Swift
Guess who nigga been down evrysince With the L.A. Zoo, my nigga Threat, Sway, and Tense E motherfuckin Swift ohh I, thought you knew Looted me some glocks in April, Ninety-Two But it's a new day, so make way shortie For the nigge with the brown bag wrapped around the forty Hold up, yo, I said hold up, here he come J motherfuckin Ro and he's buzzin off the rum
Verse Three: J-Ro
Yo it's the J-Ro fever, catch it I'm prone to grab the microphone and get evil and wreck shit If I hear, one more, nigga kickin up Das EFX shit, I'm bombin, my style is uncommon Peep it, keep it in your brain until the next one My rhyme will lift you up like a muscle when I flex One, two, three, J-Ro is who I be I got more bone than a cemetary Ninety-Three mandingo, I got my own lingo My Mexican homey, told me never trust a gringo But I trust no man, I'm chillin like a snowman I makin lots of dough, and the Liks can rip a show and Freak it, yo E-Swift freak it Won't ya give em up peak after funk when they seek it I used to walk the block with my pops playin poo-tat Now they be like who that, and shit how he do that
Chorus: repeat 4X
[Oh my gosh, oh my gosh!] -- Busta Rhymes, Scenario Who dem niggas, who dem niggas
Verse Four: Tash
Tash on the mic makes niggas play the cheap seats I rip shit from Cali to the Valley of the Jeep Beats They call me Uncle Sam cause my skills'll tax all y'all Call y'all [suckas] cause them niggas need to ball y'all Rhyme phat pages up and light em wit ya lighter MC's keep the gifts that's like flies from a spider From the pimp slap, light skin, kid that turns the mics out Diss y'all, crew then turn around and punch your lights out I take to the funk sound man since my pager I kick the kind of shit that make you want to beat your bitch up The nigga, knocker, tipsy off the vodka Tash on the mic floats like a helicopter Stop the, presses, the Liks rock the freshest I'm lookin for the bitches in the tight tight dresses So who them niggas with beats for your ass The Alkaholik crew, peace out, my name is Tash
Chorus
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