(1998 words - Mike B., music - 6012)

well sucker mc's come a dime-a-dozen
but I'm original 'cause I don't fuck with my cousin
I'm not an inbreeder like that bitch called Hanson
and when I'm on the mic I get everybody dancing
I'll make you jump, jump and keep you light on your feet
we've got a fat-assed drummer with fat-assed beats
and there's an ace on the bass, whose up in your face
he'll keep the funk freakin' while we're rockin this space
then there's me on the mic with my rhymes that are flowing
suckers still be phrunting on the knowledge I be knowing
on the subject of smoking and choking and toking
and when I kick it down you know I'm not joking
I woke up one morning with my head in a bucket
looked outside and you know I said "Fuck it!"
because I 'aint really down with the people in the city
and when I walk around I start to feel shitty
and I still don't understand why these people be phrunting
that's why I stay home, roll fat blunts
and smoke 'em right up until I get that red-eye
that's how I maintain, keep my head high
with help from the herb, I don't get perterbed
or ask them to play with my fists, 'cause I don't dis
or get pissed because my mind is to cloudy
to think about fighting so I just get outta here

*I aint got time to
make you feel sublime
just from putting me down
I'd rather smoke that pound*

well people look at me and they start dissin'
but I think there's a point they're missing
I'm not hanging out with the models and the clones
and I bust my own shit from the curb to my home
and I never feel bad about the life I lead
'cause I manage to live, and I manage to feed
but it seems everyday I step outside
I get attitude or get taken for a ride
because people in this world can no longer be trusted
that's why I stay home so I don't get dusted
sometimes it seems I can't keep my cool like the Fonz...
but I 'aint no fool
I don't bust out the muscle like Mr. T
but you better step back 'cause I sting like a bee
with my rhymes, and i'll be coming at ya
so you better start running 'cause i'm gonna catch ya
and I'll rip shit through you with my verbal assault
and if your ears start to bleed, I'll bust out the salt
rub it in your wounds and if you start to cry
run home to your mum, while I get high


well we freak tha funk, rock the hardcore and the hip-hop
when 6012 got it going on, we just don't stop
unless it's for a pipe to get us hyped while we're jamming
we got the heavy shit to get your bodies slamming
or jumpin', or pumpin', or whatever you like to do
we 'aint going to stop you, and to the bouncer we say "Fuck You!"
I know this is a police state, but authority I just hate
I was through with that shit when I left my parents at the gate
but it seems the government's my mother, police are my father
well fuck you cop I'll go to sleep when I want to
and I'll smoke what I like whether it be cigarettes or dope
this 'aint no joke - society hangs me like a rope
out to dry in the sun because I seem to have no choice
what happened to democratic freedom? the right to use your voice
for expression of your mind, in a land that should be free?
It's up in the air because this 'aint no fucking democracy
and the government's using the people instead the power should go the other way
people say they're doing shit, but they save it for another day
that day 'aint coming around, because tommorrow never comes
that's why I bust my shit now to the bass and the drums