[Verse One:Mr. S.O.S.]

T minus 10, 9, 8 skip a few

Now we launchin' this

S.O.S. and Pack here to stomp on kids

And hit 'em with a blow so monstrous

That they can't hold onto consciousness

You're better off playin' possum bitch

Cause this cool jam is equipped with a full band

And enough bump to make it difficult to stand

And...

Oh you thought it was done...

But it's only begun...

Where the fuck are the drums?

Aw fuck it, yo

This is for my motherfuckin' peeps from Palm Beach to Queens to Canada

All around the whole world like pan handlers

Amateurs plan for this we're gonna remind you what bananas is

Clap to this till you need bandages on your hands and shit

Yeah and it's nothin' I'm buggin' like fruit flies

Cause I'm too high, Pack tell 'em they ain't fuckin' with you in 5

[PackFM]

4, 3, 2, 1 bring it back

Ayo...

Who keeps fuckin' with the track?

Ayo, y'all messin' with the song...

Yo, is this thing on?

Ayo ring the alarm cause I'm bringin' the bomb

Got people on the streets screamin' "What's that thing on his arm?!"

I mean you no harm

Fuck that, I want you to die

I'll punch you in the neck while you lookin' up at the sky

And I don't know why

They said this was supposed to be fun

But I'm tryin' to overcompensate for not havin' a gun

Either way I'm the immaculate one

The P the A the C the K, rip the track till it's done

So when I pass the baton, you can grab it and run

Ayo (Pause), bring it back, I don't know 'bout that one

Now let me stop, start and shit cause it's 'bout to become

Something hard to quit

And I'm just tryin' to beat the track before the drop of the drum

(Yes)

Now I'm happy I'm done

What?

See how stupid I look?

Shit

Yo, where the fuck is the hook?

Oh, there it is

[Hook]

It goes stop, start pumpin' your fists

But if you stop, start runnin' your lips

Then you can stop, start fuckin' with this

Cause this is Stop, Start up in this bitch

It goes stop, start, stop, start, stop, start, stop, start

[Verse Two: Mr. S.O.S]

And it's like that...

Mr. S.O.S. and Pack...

Uhhh, FM on the track...

Uhhh, freshmen get attacked...

When the beat comes back they don't know how to act

Like Keanu and Arnold

Mineral flow like Pierre water

'Fuck You I Rhyme Better' is my everyday motto

These rappers are half man like Ciara with Bow Wow

Now I'll, have to get goin' before I knew

Arrest the president, now Pack it's on you

[PackFM]

And we run through Cro...

And the crew's...

And then I rep...

And (shit)...

Damn, sorry

Sometimes when I think about how dope this is

I find it hard to focus on focusing

The name is F Mack bitch, I'm supposed to win

Timeless rhymes, who knows when I wrote this shit

Don't get it twisted, I never hold a pen

My mind's in the gutter, like some bowling pins

Ayo, I gotta piss, hold this shit...

I couldn't hold it in... (aww that's the stuff)

Nonstoppin' the flow...

But when you gotta go...

Yo

Lock and load, we got more spots to blow

Take a bit of rock and roll and lace the shit with lots of soul

No mission is impossible, we fillin' up the hospital

Challenging a riot squad to a game of 'Crowd Control'

And I ain't got time to show you bitches how to flow

So I'm out the do', Tone hit it with the stop and go

Shit...

Because I'm 'bout to go get...

Me a motherfuckin' hit...

And it just don't quit...

And I don't smoke crack neither

[Hook]

[Mr. S.O.S.]

Yes...

It's Mr. S.O.S... (keep it goin' son)

And my boy Pack... (that's me nigga, what)

Him and Tonedeff on the motherfuckin' beat and you weak if you think you can com-...(yo where the beat?)

-pete...

Oh shit it's really done that time son. We out this motherfucker. (Nah fuck that I'm stayin')