[Intro: Killah Priest] You know this beat is crazy, right This the beat right here, yo They gonna love this when they hear this, g [Chorus: Killah Priest] A lot of these rappers are indecisive Ya'll comin' to this game, like ya'll the nicest But, anyway, get rich, get brain Get off the wall and do the damn thing Get off the floor and do the damn thing Get off the floor and do the damn thing [Killah Priest] Silly rappers, when will you learn You play with fire and you will get burned Cuz now, I've been low, lately, waitin' my turn Turn off my radio cuz I'm not concerned with ya'll Weak rhymes, same topics This one's for the streets, for the projects For my g's with the weed in the apartments For my dogs in the law hit with charges Fuck them, cuz I love ya'll regardless For my chicks in the whips dancin' bra-less Hair done, nice face, lookin' flawless I got that thing, bust off, lead objects Ya'll cats are lame, no threat, it's a promise Name your favorite rapper, well, he's fake And you fake, that's why you fuck with his tape I'll take that thing and just bust in your face You're not real, same flow, no style I pop steel, lames, no know who go down And I don't give a fuck, who run the city or not Cuz the streets is real, even Biggie got Pac And I love those niggas, but I don't love ya'll Bust a slug for those niggas, but bust a slug at ya'll And I get physical, visual, very artistical Givin' party people something, funky to listen to Hizza, hey, my rhymes is blizza, blazed Cross your fizza, face, down to your waist Raps, I do this, since the music influence the truest I shoot 'em with rhymes, execute 'em with lines They knew since their kind is all stupid Beats we loop it then they cue it, they foolish And I stand to prove it this time, come on [Chorus] [Hook: Killah Priest] Cuz it's new year, best to come correct I ain't hear a style that I can't do yet I ain't hear a rapper, that I can't move yet Get off the wall and do the damn thing Get on the floor and do the damn thing [Killah Priest] I see it, then write it, believe it, I'm psychic The nicest is here, the rest of those cats They was last year, well do something... I heard it, the beefs, the murders, the streets The cursin', that's weak, do something Different, for instance, the Priest is brief A technique, I proves my point, with the pen and some gin Thoughts and beats, I'm blendin' it in My records will spin, everybody knows the kid can flow Rip a show, or lift a soul, but this time, I gets that dough Plus I'm not, 50, or Biggie, or Diddy I'm Witty Unpredictable, lyrical masterful mind Chapters of rhymes, irresistible lines, metaphors is clever than yours Sever your jaws, I'm ready for war Like Pac in his Makaveli era, ready for ya'll, with a glock And rap to spread to deadly terror, I squeeze on this whole industry Enemies please don't sit with me I sit with these and cats with keys Cash and V's, black fatigues, smack M.C.'s, it's over! [Chorus] [Hook]