Get up out the closet, u aint conscious, u just a fake swoll-up playa named Mim-e-sis,
U ain’t even feelin this! Ur fruity ass needs a chaser 2 sip the slightest brew
I’m st8 up dissin u, I fucked ur bitch and raided ur sissy crew
And now all Ur bitches don't believe I spit da Izm, 'til my dick get all up in ‘em
U might as well cross the boarder and be Mexican, b4 I make u disappear and all Ur next of kin,
U ain’t NO G, fake thus ass wannabe, my dope rhymes give fake thugs a beat. …Down,
So don’t fuck around or ur punk ass will never be found, I’ll make u disappear like Jimmy Hoffa,
I got’cha, even in the heat of Phoenix, Arizona, run N hide, but I own ya, I warned ya!
Bout this ass whoppin…ye , I know ur sorry ass be hopin im only trippin (but I ain’t), don’t faint
U gave me the reason, I hear u screamin, prayin I wont say it, u won’t even be saved by Jesus
This very contagious rap amazes, speaks the truth of Ur current fazes,
u go both ways and it ain’t even a phase kid

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If this generation is lost, it is because we have let go of their hands." - Mos Def

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