Flow dope, this lyrical PCP/ I'm bangin' Sweet 16s- no TP3/ I'm the 'pinky' of the crew, huh? HeHeHe/ Well, shorty all the way home you're gettin' 'WeeWeeWee'/ I am Eastside ridin' through the D.E.C/ I got a 'Dolla' and '2 chains' like DTP/ Nigga try to test, I will gladly agree and play BABY BOY repeatedly like BET/ Let me get to the particulars/ Particularly how I be whippin' these vehiculars/ My fan base are sticklers for lyrics so I whittle up/ spittle and these riddles in a cypher that is cycular/ Rap game- stick'em up, we're taking what is owed/ They took away the spirit, now we're bringing back the soul/ My condom wrapper's gold/ my money don't fold, 'cuz the shit jingle- you can hear it when I stroll/ And the sound of my steps plus the flopping of the change/ is the beat I write to while I'm walking to the train/ Deranged in the brain/ Estranged from the lame/ Arrange with your dame for Poo-Tang in the rain/ I bang with a gang, that ain't a real gang/ We just hotter than the weather at a 'Luau'.. (dang)/ The place from which I came/ niggas slang powder in the early morning hours- call it Tang/ All the young'ns like "What??/ what the fuck is Tang? Is this muthafucka nuts?"/ Well, it could be i got a couple screws loose/ Or you're slow as Bruce Bruce running with his boots loose/ I used to shoot hoops, now I'm travelling/ It's like its '96- I'm in Atlanta throwing javelins/ The chance of your crew beating my crew battling/ Are slimmer than my muthafuckin abdomen.. what's happening?/ If you're really 'bout it, grab the mic and start rapping/ but nigga if you're scared, call a chaplin/ I get it crackin' with mic rip actions/ Puffin' bomb green... Mike Vick to Macklin..