You know, it's a lot of
thug talk and all that,
but it really don't mean nothing to me.
Cats often ask me,
who what's the prognosis?
I use my mic to inject dope in lethal doses.
The game is filled with snakes, rats,
and vultures that swarm like locusts.
Still I spit hot shit that burn your
lips like blunt roaches.
Sometimes it's hard
keepin' my goals in focus
At the same time,
hard times is part of the life process
Attack the track like the White Lotus
Most are left dead,
those alive barely have pulses
Be cautious, dawg, before you leap, look
Cause on the real,
the skills is off the hook
Havin' season trance like hypnosis
Wannabes rewind numerous times
wishin' they wrote this
Natural like osmosis
All -encompassing like the cosmoses
Nobody beats J .Root like the biz
Cop juggalas, drink it like jizz
Take it how you want it, it is what it
You be a gangster, murderer,
street hustler, or a sucker
Watch your step, no ifs, ands, or buts
Play yourself out, position,
get that ass torn up
You could be a murderer, gangster,
street Hustler, Club Bubbler
Watch your step, no ifs, ands, or buts
Play yourself out, position,
get that ass turned
Now it's all simple mathematics
I sling that lingo, that's aphorisiatic
Dudes in the hood salute the
God with they automatics
Keep it super ghetto,
you don't want static
Bust off, and of course your
whole body backflip
Tragic, rhyme doctor took the Hippocratic
Oaf, not tryna boast,
but I'm better than most
From the east to the west coast track it
In the cold, I let Bob DaVinci
cook and crack it
Shorty wobble, but I ain't smack it
And there ain't time,
I flow some whack
Underground MC tryin' to jack it
Shit is gettin' drastic, don't forget
I'm responsible for hip -hop classics
A lot of so -called conscious
MCs are my bastard
Children, fuck the roof
Bein' on fire,
I burn down the whole building
Droppin' bombs,
lock up your wife and kids
Take it how you take it, dawg
It is what it is
You could be a gangster, murderer,
street hustler, or a sucker
Watch your step, no ifs, ands, or buts,
play yourself out, position,
get that ass torn up
You could be a murderer, gangster,
street hustler, drug bubbler
Watch your step, no ifs, ands, or buts,
play yourself out, position,
get that ass torn
Before you ask me, son,
what's the science?
Ten years down the line
and I'm still defiant
Still on the grind, still ride, still shine
Making moves like I'm Ghetto Vinus,
clap up the track
Don't wanna catch a slug in the back
House and mics call me Mike Tyrant
And I don't give a fuck if you hot,
I play fire hydrant
Use my mic like a hammer,
leave you dead in the ditch
Po -po, investigate,
but there's no evidence
Wipe my heat off and toss it
so it's no fingerprints
Kill every eyewitness so
can't nobody snitch
Like going raw dog in a dirty bitch
Fuck with the kid and get burnt, it is what it
You could be a gangster, murderer,
street hustler, or a sucker
Watch your step, no ifs, ands, or buts
Play yourself out, position,
get that ass torn up
You could be a murderer, gangster,
street hustler, drug bubbler
Watch your step, no ifs, ands, or buts
Play yourself out, position,
get that ass torn up
Gangsta, murderer,
street hustler, or a sucker
You could be a murderer,
gangster,
street hustler, drug bubbler
Watch your step, no ifs, ands, or buts
Play yourself out , position,
get that ass chowin' up
Sometimes, I sit back
and I wish I had a time machine.
Jeru The Damaja 
