| INTRO (YlooK) | |
| Uh..T dot O to the N dot Y | |
| That's how we do it | |
| Choclair, Kardinall hooked with my man Guru | |
| And YlooK bitch? What the f**k? | |
| (Choclair) | |
| Yo, T-dot rocks y'all | |
| We smoke and mix up in your face, you weeded | |
| So you drop y'all, leaving y'all hired skills depleated | |
| 'Cause you lockjaw, Chocs and Guru begin | |
| Can you believe this how we lock y'all | |
| Niggas who be talking how they bigger | |
| How you figure? | |
| You can spark with or talk with | |
| This raw artist | |
| You talk heartless but game straight harmless | |
| Snatch your mic out your hand | |
| Leave your fingers harmless | |
| We rottweilers, while y'all be the tires | |
| You need to retire | |
| F**king with Toronto, get your pink slip you're fired | |
| Kicked out the Thompson Hall through Apollo doors | |
| Guru be the bre-the-ren | |
| Bless the man, slide like the doors on the Caravan | |
| (Guru) | |
| The ill format, the skills all that | |
| Twist enemies Jack | |
| Let's counteract, plus build and all that | |
| In fact, take a flight to Toronto and back | |
| Be over there with Choclair, Kardinall with the track | |
| In the year born born, suckers have been forewarned | |
| Take you higher than hydro or Moet ?? | |
| Word is bond, it's on in this rap game | |
| I slap mens, mack dames, yes I'm a fly black king | |
| Stacking paper now, packing flavour now | |
| Hit you dead in the head now | |
| My hunger gotta get fed now | |
| My style's similar to a fierce knuckle hit | |
| Or like hollow-points to pierce your whole f**king frame | |
| CHORUS X2 (Choclair) {Guru} | |
| A-yo witness the fitness | |
| Who's next on the hitlist? | |
| Rap so exact that you can't do shit | |
| {Witness the fitness} | |
| {Who's next on the hitlist?} | |
| {Rap so exact you catch the shakes like a sickness} | |
| (Choclair) | |
| Now it's the skinny man dropping this | |
| Lock your brain, lock your lips | |
| Talking shit? Bust your game | |
| Career flops? I'm to blame | |
| What's the name? (yeah) | |
| Guru and the Chocs will reign | |
| Wild like the lion's mane walking through the rain | |
| Or walking through the pain of critic suffering | |
| Got my eyes on the prize with the red dot locked | |
| That's to keep it hot | |
| My hungry-ass niggas be down for the figures | |
| Green in the jean, Cruise like some act figures | |
| You f**king with some raw, suave, dog ass niggas | |
| Look into the eyes of the man that will be detrimental to your career | |
| If you even touch the micstand, nigga 'nuff said | |
| Verse 4: Guru | |
| Hear the battle cry | |
| Niggas getting herded like cattle to die | |
| Why? (why?) What the f**k you think? (what the f**k you think?) | |
| You know they want our type of species to become extinct | |
| Still we multiply, they can't really kill us | |
| They're upset, we're a threat 'cause their kids really feel us | |
| They think we're drug dealers, and some of us maybe are | |
| But I be the G-U-R-U of the Gang to the Starr | |
| I'm going far baby pa, dipping in a fly car | |
| Getting eyes from the honeys, parking up at the bar | |
| Always up to par when I spar | |
| And yo, while your protecting your neck I be like breaking your jaw | |
| Yo trizzack, your shit's wizzack | |
| I took that shit thizzack, it shouldn't of even been up on the rizzack | |
| Straight like thizzack, motherf**kers | |
| CHORUS | |
| A-yo witness the fitness | |
| Who's next on the hitlist? | |
| Rap so exact that you can't do shit | |
| Cut and scratched by YlooK | |
| "My attitude on the hoes.." <-- Choclair | |
| "I wreck the mic like a pimp pimps hoes" <-- Guru |
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