[Lord Digga] Good good morning, it's a warnin you I slept last night stop, you fuckin yawnin 540 wakes you made a mistake, now your funeral chosen place's gonna If there is one I'm not the nigga that you really want to fight, right? Because I put my foot in Gladys, because I thought she wore my Nikes And I could fuck your wife, because I'm livin Trife I gives a damn about a punk pussy rapper Cause I break into the twilight of the clock to the day after you little punk bastards, the Digga's Cominby Ya, only to be the rub-out mission Say your prayers like a Christian or your punk ass is missin Like Jimmy Hoffa, it's the drunken hip-hopper Comin to your ass proper to a slow beat or some opra But check me Kick to the next verse, because I'm like Cindy Lauper Here comes the crazy drunken style, take a Swiggs (I'm drunk, so what?) I got the crazy drunken style Here comes the crazy drunken style, take a Swiggs (Give the man a taste, and he's gone) [Masta Ace] I was a freakFlow, fresh like a fish in the fryer It's the fat rhyme supplier on the 5 train clothes Goin Uptown, kickin with the songs that will be hittin I'm trying Swingin my cock on the toilet when I'm shittin me, right to eat, so do not go talking about pigs Gettin mine on tracks that are rough like a porcupine, the mathematical abstraction, I'm Waxin Maxin with action, is shootin like Paxton ring of the car, ding-ding, the bell is the man with customers, this red rock you and knock your...
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