[Intro: Murs]

Hey, what's up, this is muthafucking Murs

Here with muthafucking Basik

You know what I'm sayin'? I got a foul ass mouth

But not really givin' a fuck

This is all freestyle

[Verse 1: Murs]

One take do it like this no fakes, on the microphone destroy all snakes

In the grass Murs will beat that ass if it has to come to that type of situation

But I really know that patience is a virtue

But I just might hurt you, call it curtains

Pull up a skirt on a few emcees actin' bitch, wanna change off that switch

Like a light, 25 watt, you ain't that bright

Might get socked in the night

Where I'm from; Mid City, where we roam

Come hard over drums, everybody wants to hum some other nigga's song

Be on the dick of other crews too long, now where's your song at?

Got a whole tape, but ain't nobody else gonna kick a rap unless they famous

That's the fool from "Table Of Contents"; your whole purpose is aimless

Need to get some shit, condense it into one form, have a common goal

When I'm bombing soul on this track

Everybody knows my spirit comes intact

Never, umm, post handle or should I say

On strike like UPS, I might just incave yo' chest like this

Make a chasm when I spit this shit

Have your chest doing spazm-fantasium

Like that four with the spikes

Everybody knows I don't sport Nikes

Well, I really kinda do, 'cause I can't afford other shoes, they cost too much

Everybody wanna rock the dutch

Or other, should I say the British walking shit talkers from New York get cooked

Burnt up, I stay away like pork

How many emcees have said that "I've read that

Rap book you had all them rhymes you had was whack"

Take it like that, uhh

[Refrain: Murs]

This nigga Murs with a freestyle verse with Basik

Your whole style is whack so face it

This nigga Murs with a freestyle verse and Basik

Your whole style is whack, just face it

Can't replace it

[Interlude: Basik]

Can't replace it, can't replace it

One on one

This is Basik, yo, checking in, one-two

[Verse 2: Basik]

Watch out for your whole crew, we might do them by the two's

Three's and a hundreds, I got you in a tundra

Freezing your toes, Basik emcee expose superstition

I guess you thought you was wishing you was in another state

I negate no property, Basik emcee awfully

All up in all these Emcees

Taking them off stage with a swift kick

You might sling from my dick

Matter of fact you's a trick

Sell you on the corner for two bucks or less

You be selling your rhymes like it was two bucks of stress

Just a little bit of style and a little bit of this

And a little bit of spice here and a little ingredient there

Now I'ma come out then I'ma start to stare

Mad doggin' whack MCs, I'ma stomp em with girls clogs

And keeping them clogging up like arteries, fools be swelling up

Thinking they gonna serve me; I think not

I'll put you in my pot

Everything is for 50 degrees, got it hot

Pull out about four MCs please, watch me ease of all you

All these punks never, I'm way too clever

Used to live down the street from this fool named Trevor

But he got a little shady

So I had to make him not my baby

Had to serve him and sit him on the curb

And send him on the street and run him over with my Honda Accord!

Never bored while I soared in the sky

Basik MC will never die

I'm living continuously

Matter of fact I- I should say infinitive

You wanna live, don't step up, you might limp back

Watch out for the attack

From me and Murs, you've gotta stay dope if you don't wanna be whack

That's obvious

Matter of fact I'm seein' this through the scope of my eyes

Matter of fact I got three of them; matter of fact I got five of them

'Cause I'm counting my glasses, kicking many asses

All through like- going slow like molasses

If you want me to slow down the style

Leave a whack MC thinking I'ma gon' get wild!

Now wait little child, you might get smacked

You need a pacifier

You a whack MC, you was a liar

Talkin' about you was ten leagues higher

But ten leagues lower in the sea, wanna be me

I bet you wanna clone, you drone

I'm like the bully of the block

I'ma take yo' Twinkies out your lunch box

Then take your money and put it in my socks

And then walk down the street with this damn beat

That shit is thumpin', keep bumpin' in the Bay Area

With my man Murs, wanna kick a freestyle verse

Leave a whack MC in a hearse, now you cursed