Oh yeah, this is Punk'D baby, back up in that motherfucking ass
One time for your mother fucking mind, we represent the 313
You know what I'm saying?, cause they don't know shit about this For the 9-6

Check it:

Ayo, my pen and paper cause a chain reaction
To get your brain relaxin, cause they be actin maniac in action
A brainiac in fact son, you mainly lack attraction
You looking zany whack with just a fraction of my tracks spun
My rhyming skills got you climbing hills
I travel through your mind until you spine like siren drills
I'm sliming grills of roaches, with sprayed on disinfectants
With some ex rappers till their spinal column disconnects
We disinfect then check the monologue, turn your system up
Twist them up, and indulge in the marijuana smoke
This is the season for noise pollution contamination
Examination of more cartoons than animation
My lamination of narration
Hit's a snare and bass of track fucked up rapper interrogation
When I declare invasion, there ain't no time to be stare and gazing
I turn the stage into a barren wasteland...