I hold the microphone like a grudge
B'll hold the record so the needle don't budge
I hold a conversation cause when I invent
I nominated, my DJ, "The Presdient"
When I see you I'll, kick a freestyle, goin steadily
So pucker up, and whistle "My Melody"
But whatever you do, don't miss one
There'll be another rough rhyme after this one
Before you know it, you're followin and fiendin
Waiting for the punchline, to get the meanin
Like before, the middle of my story I'm tellin
Nobody beats the R, so stop yellin
Save it, put it in your pocket for later
Cause I'm "Moving the Crowd," and B'll wreck the fader
No interruptions 'til the mic is broke
When I'm gone... then you can joke!
Cause everything is real on a serious tip
Keep playin, and I get furious quick
And I'll take you for a walk through hell
Feed your dome -- then watch your eyeballs swell
Guide you out of triple stage darkness
When it get dark again... then I'ma spark this
microphone, cause the heat is on, you see smoke
And I'm finished when the beat is gone, I'm no joke {*echoes*}
