chi-town out hear spittin shit like he was a broken toilet,
he comes up with the masta plan and i'll still fuckin foil it/

i'll battle any bitch any muthafuckin race,
break into ur house and shit on ya face/

i see more blood in a hospital then i see in you,
havin fuckin temper tantrums like you was two/

like a magician u just pretendin,
like paul martin ya face is offendin/

u aint a gangsta u just another fuckin copy,
like a computer u gotta 3 and a half inch floppy/

stories about you gotta be a fable,
cuz all ya do is bring bitch 2 the table/

ya rhymes is loose just like a fuckin pornstar,
i'll go punch 4 punch and win with just one bar/

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March 26 1995, we remember