(One, two... yeah...) One two one two, I’m bucklin’ my shoe Got a pint of the gold and a nasty kung fu Three four three four, I’m kickin’ in the door With the bass hittin' low, make dat ass hit the floor Five six five six, I’m pickin’ up sticks To beat down these suckers with their wack counterfeits Seven eight seven eight, I’m a lay you straight While I’m stackin’ up the bodies leaving all in my wake (Yeah, you heard me!) Nine, ten, I’m doin’ it again A big fat hen and a bottle of gin Eleven, twelve, I’m diggin’ through the shelve Where the demons and the junkies and the bums all delve Thirteen, fourteen, the scene is obscene I’m a lyrical machine Full of gasoline —lightin’ up the block While I’m cleaning out the safety on the chrome-plated Glock! Slide that bass! One, two, buckle the shoe Three, four, hit the floor! We’re takin’ it to twenty 'cause the ten is a whore (Five, six, she doin' tricks!) Seven, eight, don't be late! The Architect is buildin' and we're lovin' the hate! Fifteen, sixteen... I'm lookin' real mean In the kitchen with the powder and the wintergreen Seventeen, eighteen... your lady is waitin' In the back of the slab while the trunk is vibratin' (Grillin' like a villain, baby...) (Real talk...) Nineteen, twenty, I’m huntin’ for the money Ain’t a goddamn thing about this nursery funny! I’m a lyrical pimp with a limp and a cane Injectin’ this shit right into your vein Twenty-one, twenty-two, what the fuck you gonna do? When the bass hits the street and it splits you in two? Twenty-three, twenty-four, I’m a cold-blooded whore For the beat and the heat and the war on the floor! Twenty-five... barely alive. The rhyme is a weapon. The bass is the drive. One Two yeah
