You don’t want none with my elevated mindstate/ Hella-fied ignorance justificated crime-rate/ Pull up on the side/ Pu-Pull up on the side/ Pull up on the/ Pull up on the/ Yeah that’s right/ Pull up on the side of your ’95 Civic/ No license, no brown bag, this is how I’m livin’/ Brown man, white women/ Just kidding, all types all colors over for mind-sex leaving with Mike in em/
On the spot where you battling mc’s at/ You ain’t never sold it out, you want positive feedback/ Quit rappin, go to the mall start gift wrapping/ Get 15% off that Express Mens jacket (Ew)/ Push up on girl like “Pushit Pushit rrreal good!”/ Rules to make her body give direction like Spielberg (Click!)/ Picture that she kinda like me/ On the dance floor screaming “Give It To Me Mikey!!”

I’m a mess I’m a Creep (I’m a What!?)
I’m outchea tryna catch (All the What!?)
All the sheep
Slaughtering to eat (It’s a What!?)
It’s a feast
I do this in my sleep
Coming with it garunteed little bwoy
I’m a Champ (I’m a What!?) No Kings
Minnesota on that ass (We do the What!?)
We do “Tha Thing”
I do this in my sleep
Coming with it gaurunteed
So sick, I’m so fresh
So motherfucking me Young Man (WHAT!?)

I’m so hood talking shit I always used to/ Fuck a street gang cuz we can learn to shoot too/ You too, get your banging off of YouTube/ Google “the world’s a ghetto” and your “gayng ain’t bullet-proof”/ Rubberband or bully-proof Wooly Mammoth Minne-snowta So-Cal vocal fully loaded hoody troop/ Be scared of us cuz we the Cootie Crew/ Holler Hootie-Hoo? Who are you?/ Rudy-poo booty-rapper learned to rap on movie shoots/ I walk in heavy shoes, you steady rock with a bigger head than Betty Boop/ You must humbly bow out or bow down/ Mumbling bow-wow’s put the paws down now/ Rumble in the dog-house lock the neck in one round/ One sound (EGH!) shut em’ to the compound/ I’ma complex rapper, complex killer/ Chop a rhymer down to context filler/ Feel affirmative that I’m the next-getter-champ-splitter-shrimp-dinner-butcherboy-beefcake-barber Jimmy Snuffa chest-splitter/ And what the hell does that even mean??/ Means I’m just ill at rhyming and everything in between/ So Go Big or Go Bigger/ It’s your neighborhood Doomtree Dead Ringer (Yeah that’s ME)/ Go Big or Go Bigger/ It’s Murder Making Mike (Marquez) Mictlan Motherfucker THAT’S ME!

I’m a mess I’m a Creep (I’m a What!?)
I’m outchea tryna catch (All the What!?)
All the sheep
Slaughtering to eat (It’s a What!?)
It’s a feast
I do this in my sleep
Coming with it garunteed little bwoy
I’m a Champ (I’m a What!?) No Kings
Minnesota on that ass (We do the What!?)
We do “Tha Thing”
I do this in my sleep
Coming with it gaurunteed
So sick, I’m so fresh
So motherfucking me Young Man (WHAT!?)