Yo, Foul's 'bout to set it off on this pretender from Texas
droppin' mad fists of fury on your mid solar plexus.
Flag pushes a Lexus, DeLeon borrows Mom's Saturn
You're dazed and ablaze by this rhythmical pattern.
Some say that I don't have hard enough punches
Spreading more cheese and ham than school kids' lunches.
But you're scared now, so go cry to your posse 'The Blueprint'
You'll leave here with a facial reminder, namely: my shoeprint.
Get ready for the 4th of July, get your dick out Granny's apple pie
You game's gone awry, I await your reply, go ice your black eye.

OUT.....in the blink of an eye.