Journey - Kool Keith, U-God

When it comes to this rap shit, not a stranger

Not Cedric, but I’m a Entertainer

Game changer, none can match it

I’m a Master, I throw on the green jacket

It takes practice, just to blaze mics

I’m in the best shape of my life

In fights with God vs. Devil

I’mma beat them charges, I’m the hardest rebel

I’m beyond your level, I’m stone and grit

Sit back, let me Quincy Jones this shit

Loan two bits, this is my territory

My biography’s an amazing story

Of blood and streets, love and deceit

Slugs and heat, let the dog off the leash

I’m a free MC, not DMC, no contracts, contact TMZ

Here I come (I'm the talk of the town, talk, talk of the town)

I’m on my way (I'm the talk of the town, talk, talk of the town)

Here I come (I'm the talk of the town, talk, talk of the town)

I’m on my way (I'm the talk of the town, talk, talk of the town)

Tour bus, Orca, big shark walker

Man with the ammo, ya’ll bring the grand piano

Fitted hat on, superfly, walk around

Shoot around your town like Hawaii Five-Oh

Oprah come out your projects, I’m down with The Sopranos

While I’m stealin' em, head so big like balloon helium

Guns with body suits, energize off poets

See the king of kings, I manage Floyd Mayweather now

Come up to the condeminium, and shake hands with the new millennium

Larry and Armstrong insurance, me and U-God

Any rapper come up, better speak to the doorman

Throwing rice on the city, out the Carolina box

Captain hat, finger popping your lady with the Air Nike shots

Heavyweight, dumped around my waist, I took it years ago from John Tate

Rap hall of fame, ya’ll mention me

Got more bars then a penetentiary

In the next century, you gonna see my spark

My rap IQ is right off the charts

Go and front, go ahead plot

You got the biggest gun don’t mean you can’t get shot

Check my slot, check my melody

You can’t beat me, I’m the champ of this melody

Speaking felonies, that’s why I’m ribbing

Golden Arms venom, baggy jeans denim

Enemies, yo, I dodge for a living

And all these women, gotta stay ahead of ya

Ya’ll want ballers, the hell with the regular

Yeah, yeah, whatever, kid, gotta keep your head sharp

Mind on the run, ya’ll got a head start

Ya’ll know the repertoire, fingers on the triggers

We the toughest niggas in the yard