[Sample from the film Confessions of a Dangerous Mind]

— Chuck Barris: Hey, I got an idea. If you aren't so bad… why don't you do it? Why don't you kill the mole? You got a problem with killing, Jim?

— Jim Byrd: I just don't fit the profile.

[Verse]

Watch how it go down

It's hot on the old route

There's cops on patrol now, cats in stocking masks

And no, not when it's cold out

If I rob and I show out

I get the Glock and I roll out

You get shot in your hometown

No, not on the low down

Throw shots at the whole crowd

I'm not gonna slow down for the spot that I hold down

But I'm conscious, I know now

My pockets are swole now

But I lost it, it goes down

And it's not often I owe thous

But money talks and it's so loud

I can hear it as I go from a quap to a whole pound

I'm not trusting their resolution

I'm adjusting the resolution

Fuck the government revolution!

The chambers of my guns do hundreds of revolutions

Each bullet spun at your mind

Y'all can get it one at a time

You next? In front of the line!

Come see me, the pall-bearer

I talk greasy like a ball bearer

I tear 'em up, I'm on my grind like a pair of trucks

If you said I'm raw as fuck, okay fair enough

I didn't get this sick from sharin' cups

Motherfuckers swearin' up

You need to grow a pair of nuts

You below par, son, I been the best from bar one, bar none

I am the hardest when rhymin'

Harder than Harlem, Long Island

I belong in Arkham Asylum

I'm a Stone Temple Pilot

My poetry like rose, petals, violets

Chrome, metal, violence

My flow? Never mind it

Switches up so much that I don't recognize it

It's become airborne, hope you don't catch the virus

The dro press my eyelids; if po gets behind us

Then hide it in your prosthetics, and don't let 'em find it

We press albums, you get your clothes pressed with irons

Don't like us? Protest in silence!

Been tourin' all day, you could go check the mileage

I'm so pressed for time, we set the whole west on fire

Want some rhymes, then? Memorize mine then

Guarantee you will be mesmerized by them

These guys got a feminine side inside them

I spit 9/11 times ten, Inception mind bend

I weaponize my pen, but my weapon's my friend

We attached at the hip, we connected like twins

Making trap in this wild game

Is like trappin' some wild game

If you harass me or violate, you askin' to die in vain

Try it mane, try to take it back

Try some Lidocaine with that

Deny the shame, try to blame gangsta rap

Cops think they razorback boars

But they really pigs, I put a blade in that pork

Yeah, then eat it off the plate with my fork

Come see you later at court

Judge a book by a cover

You should be lookin' for cover if you the paperback sort

My life's a open book: hardback

Entitled, "We Ain't Comfortable If We Aren't Strapped"

I spit a hundred bars every day, where's your bars at?

I swear, I could go all damn day

So when I end this song, it's only for my fans' sake

[Sample from the film Confessions of a Dangerous Mind]

— Chuck Barris: What fucking profile? There is no fucking profile.

— Jim Byrd: Okay, there's no profile.

— Chuck Barris: Yeah, there's no profile.

— Jim Byrd: Okay. Your father, the dentist, not really your father. Your real father was a man named Edmund James Windsor. Among other things, he was a serial killer.