[Imani]nNone of that's true nWe do it not you nThat' why I got you nStuck on nTo my style like glue! nThe crew nDefinitely is back again nBut I'm back to win nSo just tell a friend nThat I'm still nTwisting and bending nMinds and rhymes until the very end nWith the rhymes nAnd the loops nStomping out wack troops nIn my big black boots nCollecting respect and the loot! nFrom the way I grab the microphone nAnd execute, iahp's think I'm cute nn[Bootie Brown]n(Say what?) nYo man, I pay them no nAttention I stay deep into nThe cut cause I leave the nTricks alone cause my name nIs not David Copper-Filled nPockets, never net a man nWho don't hate it nSo let it be stated nNiggas couldn't fade it with an nEdit, nAnd Xerox M.C.'s nAre pathetic, they tryin' to nDuplicate but their comin' nOut synthetic nThe name is Bootie Brown and phony M.C.'s forget nIt. nn[Chorus: x2]nImani Bootie Brown Fatlip and Slimkid Tre nImani Bootie Brown Fatlip and Slimkid Tre nImani Bootie Brown Fatlip and Slimkid Tre nWe do it this way nWe do it this way nn[Fatlip]nI step toward the MIC grinnin' nThe lyrical imperial award winnin' nRhymes like a balloon that got a pin in it nBecause my shit be poppin' nLike gin and juice I seduce these iahps to get nLoose nWhen I'm droppin' nThese rhymes on drums nLike my nigga Def Jef nMy style is more unknown than what happens nAfter death nI come fresh like your breath after your brush nWack MC's like that orange soda got crushed nn[Slim Kid3]nWell it's apparent that many nAre so transparent you nCan't believe ya eyes when nYa starin it's ghostly and nMostly the wise who nYeah they just run these games nBefore ya eyes to tell you nLies framed in gold glitter nFor many moons I've been nA go getter took miles of nManure from the purest bullshitters nNow them mutha fuckas ain't wit us nTo get us nM-walk shake the cut through their nNeutro-transmitter nn[Chorus: x2]nn[Imani]nYou must respect me nBecause I come directly from my internal nWhile my eternal nInfernos steadily towering nAnd over-powering nAll sour sounding wishin' wishy-washy nCompetition nDefinitely wack and lackin' nAnd stable ammunition nChange ya mission nMen and listen nMy way your salutations nGet no validations nJust rejections and ejections nOutta my Hitachi nn[Slim Kid3] nCome on and taste the real nStep on inside and confide nIn the feel I reside nBy steel waters just a gear nOn the wheel no fear on nThe steel just a son of Jiva nWho won't leave my field