[ Lord Digga ]
Good good mornin, this is a warnin
You slept on me last night, so stop the fuckin yawnin
You shouldn'ta dialed 540-WAKE
You made a mistake, now your funeral's gonna take place
I'm not the nigga that you really wanna fight, right?
Cause I put my foot in Gladys, cause I thought she wore my Nikes
And I just might fuck your wife, cause I'm livin trife
I gives a fuck about a punk pussy rapper
Cause I break the dawn in the p.m. to the day after
You little punk bastards, the Digga's comin after
Ya, strictly on a rub-out mission
Say your prayers like a christian
Or your punk ass will be missin
Like Jimmy Hoffa, it's the drunken hip-hopper
Comin to kick your ass proper to a slow beat or some opra
But check me on the next verse, cause I'm out like Cindy Lauper

Here comes the crazy drunken style, take a swigger
(I'm drunk, so what?)
I got the crazy drunken style
Here comes the crazy drunken style, take a swigger
(Give the man a taste, and he's gone)

[ Masta Ace ]
I could freak a flow, fresh like fish in the fryer
It's the fat rhyme supplier on the 5 train attire
Goin Uptown, kickin with the songs that be hittin
I'm swingin like my dick on the toilet when I'm shittin
I try to eat right, so don't even talk of swine
Gettin mine on tracks that are rough like a porcupine
The mathmatical abstraction, I'm waxin
Maxin with action, shootin like Paxton
Ring goes the ???, ding-ding goes the bell
It's the man with the clientele, here to rock you well
Knock the red out your socks, now it don't match your necks
It's the crazy drunken style like a big glass of Beck's

Drink, drink, drink, oh, come and get a drink
Of the lyrical intoxicants to make your breath stink