f/ Kon Artis, Obie Trice

Ha, ha, ha, ha
Yo what up, its Essman Spectrogams, my man
Kon Artis, Obie Trice, Denaun Porter

DJ motherfucking Butter, shit happens
That's right, 2000-2001, D-Tweezy

[Kon Artis]
Knockout blows, mics get torn, out the frame without metronomes
Niggaz want money, we send they ass home
Without cab fare after my dick get blown
The sign says no smoking so we smoke
The bill come after we eat so we break out
Loudmouth at the lunatic house
With a bunch of Looney Tunes that'll go right in your mouth
We the reason for split wigs, blood puddles shot up dead
Baby momma with no daddys and 8 kids, criticize this
Ya'll all can drink elephant piss and eat shit
Guess you didn't listen the first time
What am I supposed to do, keep wasting my talent on battle raps
Fuck that, I do this for Bugz
The only battling I do is when I'm shooting up clubs
DJ Butter, Obie Trice, shit can happen, D-Twezzy

[Obie Trice]
Aye yo I spit through the music equipment
I talk shit to your chicks like I was intestines son of a bitch
I lay ya flat like Charlie Batch the quarterback
Getting sacked by that lineman, we feeling this asscrack
O Trice the famed faggot I'm passed that
I'm out for the ass cap literally
Bust a slug in your right cheek
From these verbal tethlon that motherfuckers speak
I run the blocks with a slew of freaks
That love jacking niggas to accumulate heat
Accommodate them bitches with the seats
Strip ya car empty sit it on the street
I hope ya got ya policy back, no apoligy for that
DVD that was snatch, niggas catch wooden bats
Loose steel gats, juvenile thugs running up in ya flat
Fuckin with us, you need aspirin for the act
Its an outcold feeling in hearing ya fibula crack
Obie trice and Kon Artis the hardest
Regardless, flawless
That's why Butter brought us
Butt ugly bitches wanna record us
And be sugar mommas and take us off the corner
Shit happens