[Efemjay]

Lyrics, somebody want lyrics? I got a myriad

My flow is nasty like a bull-dyke's period

It's straight up eerie, kid; the way I rip and flip a verse

Sicker than your grandma dressed up as a stripper-nurse

You can ask my man The Chancellor, he's happy to confirm it

I'm never going out, I'm in the house like a hermit

Take your rhyme book and burn it, kid, you'll never build a legacy

With lyrics ill-conceived like an anal-sex pregnancy

[The Chancellor]

I took a small hiatus, I got a little famous

I went through different stages but still, I am the greatest

On the M.I.C., you know me, I'm Chance Nasty

Came back to rap, just to tickle your fancy

You can't see, Chance Nasty and Flash Master

Encroaching on your airwaves like a natural disaster

You rat bastard, we're back on the scene

Got you spazzing out like Ralphie cracking out for Ovaltine

[Efemjay]

Suckers step to me to try to get some fame

I kick ass and take names, knock pussy walls out the frames

I don't play games with the dames, I will destroy a bitch

Out to get that money like Governor Blagojevich

You know I keep it gutter, can I please have my ghetto pass

I used to watch The Sopranos just to see Meadow's ass

I rock a metal flask full of vodka when I'm parasailin'

I'm stupid off the dome like my name was Sarah Palin

[The Chancellor]

It's indifferent to me, if I see any currency

Me? I'm puffin trees and you haters is irking me

Shirking me off as that next cracker rapper

Keep talking that shit, I'll make your head-piece splatter

I'm fresh, dressed, my style is so impeccable

And around here, Timbs and bling are unacceptable

You got no style, you don't know how to jet set

I'm rocking throwbacks for teams that don't exist yet

[Hook]

"Reunited" / "My motherfucking boy" / "Booger D"

"Flash Master" / "Live in the place to be" (x2)

[Efemjay]

I'm blowing up the spot like a motherfucking meth head

I'm the illest rapper since Eazy-E was on his death bed

I'm tested, never fold under pressure

My rhymes are off the hook like the clothes on your dresser

With the flows that you treasure and the beats that knock

I got more styles that wrinkles on Milton Berle's cock

One ill ass line, yo, for each measure

I get the dough, then I'm out like Heath Ledger

[The Chancellor]

Ay yo we're taking it back, to the roots of the game

Where lyricism outweighs riches and fame

Y'all sound the same, all y'all lame ass copy-catters

How the fuck you got the nerve to call yourselves rappers

We're the grandmasters, and we're ashamed of what we seeing

I could freestyle better than your written shit when I'm peeing

Emceeing's in my blood, I'm 'a rhyme 'til I die

So if you're digging what im spitting throw your hands up high

[Efemjay]

You want to battle me but your shit is pre-written

Pathetic, like a flea-bitten wee kitten

You's a pussy motherfucker, you probably pee sittin'

You just can't fuck with the shit I be spittin'

Off the dome or with the pen, yo, I'm nice with my mine

Turn lyrics into water like Christ with wine

She got a nice behind, but she wack from the front

So I hit it from the back, put my sac in her cunt, ungh!

[The Chancellor]

It's elementary, we be, the epitome

In the hip hop industry we're going down in history

Is that a mystery? nah, it's actual facts son

We came up in the sticks, half hour from Jackson

You're wack, son, you know you can't even hold a candle

This Rollin Tribe shit is just too much for you to handle

It's just a sample, of some next level shit

Like Smooth B said, we come back with more hits

[Hook] x2