Ah so now ya got me pissed off  blast off lift off  
 Time for me to twist off a vocal fist off  
 into your domepiece  Homepeace  I heard your chick wants to bone me  
 I get  wild like rugby  respected like Bugsy  
 Don't even ask me  cause I'm livin lovely  
 Born to succeed  foes bleed  true indeed  
 The oral combat will romp that  your one of my seeds  
 when I first  busted on the scene  
 Nigga  you knew I had more than a gangsta lean  
 I mean my lean is gangsta though so check it  
 I'll stick an MC for his spot and sign in blood on his wack record  
 Boo-ya-ka, to your face as I ruin ya  
 Clown ya, dumbfound ya, while I'm screwin the  
 fuck out cha girl as she steps into my world  
 I'm not the tallest, but that ass I'll polish  
 And if the hooker runs her mouth she gets cut off  
 But then you'll sweat her, cause like my leather you're butter soft  
 Your style stinks kid, ya garbage  
 And if you keep talkin shit, I'ma make ya pay homage  
 Cause the G to the U to the R-U, came too far to  
 let you slide through, rhymes will scar you  
 And who the fuck are you anyway?  
 I catch more wreck in a minute than if you rhyme for ten days  
 Throw the cash in the pot  
 You betta dash nigga, cause I'm blowin up the spot  
  
 "I'm bout to blow the fuck up"  
 * Premier scratches *  
  
 [Guru]  
 No ex-capin the explosion, those who are dozin, I close in  
 Set the thermostat at sub-zero, they're frozen  
 Extreme temperatures from my mic, stuns amateurs  
 Unable to conquer the Gang, I ain't mad at cha  
 Peace to Jeru, the Big Shug and the Group Home  
 Keepin it real, no playin niggaz or chrome  
 I'm way past the kid shit, brothers already did shit  
 You want some props? Yo dog, here's a biscuit  
 I'm a smooth nigga and my groove's bigga, move nigga  
 And we don't care who's wit cha, got the picture?  
 And you don't wanna hear the burners go pop  
 Gang Starr motherfucker, what, blowin up the spot  
  
 "I'm bout to blow the fuck up"  
 * Premier scratches *  
  
 [Guru]  
 I go from one format then switch to the next  
 Reflex sets the pitch vocals rip through projects  
 Crazy shouts are heard all around  
 Cause the GangStarr sound carries more weight per pound  
 I got some brand new Timbs, so emcees sing new hymns  
 You betta repent, come correct, represent  
 or get stomped, smacked and slapped, cap peeled back  
 I got you open, and now you cling to my sac  
 Get off, hands off, stay off, you're way off  
 You rookie motherfuckers it's the finals not the playoffs  
 I'll break you up into particles, to small pieces  
 Because your brain is miniscule  
 You little fool, come learn the tools of the trade  
 I made the rules so go to school and get played  
 Just when you're thinkin that your jam is hot  
 Up steps the niggaz who be blowin up the spot