You know what?nHuh?nYou know what?nWhat?nYou know what?nYou know what?nThenSugar D I C D A D I EnThat's just a title, explaining who I benMista L A W N G EnI take a sucker from any phil and injure theenNow that I've spelled it outnAnd you like the way it soundsnI'm dissing rap musicnand rap music on the groundsnYou say I'm full of sheepnAnd for that I give a poundnThe Sugar Dick DaddynMista Lawnge to break it downnLadies, step to me for a real neat treatnAnd if you don't wanna call me LawngenYou can call me sweet meatnI wear protection, you won't catch claps herenCome over later, but first go get a pap smearnNine point five okay dear?nAnd don't forget clean underwearnCause I don't want the funk to flownAfter after I'm done, yo ya gotta gon'Don't you know ho, don-tcha know ho'nOkay enough is enough, time to get that off my bladdernAnd dig deep into the subject matternYou know what?nYou know what?nI'm sick and tired of rappers not realnAnd suckers makin' it with a pop feelnLabels signin acts with nuff billsnTax write off, cause you have no skillsnYou go make a demonget a deal and start to sproutnGold, platinum, and then start sellin outnYou get a Benz and trash the NovanDouble platinum, and start crossin overnThen you get fall, I won't give examplesnHINT HINT, they use the same old samplesnBut not the Sheepnfor we are sleek and uniquenTop of the peek and others are weaknFollow the words that I speaknThe situation is bleaknBut this is the fly shit that you seeknWhen the style is dopenMista Lawnge'sa particapatornIf you wanna battle, laternCause Black Sheep are certified greater than...nBut, I said later mann'I can dig it'nYou know what?nYou know what?nYou know what?nYou know what?nYou know what?nYou know what?nYou know what?nYou know what?nI turn on the radionBe a prime time to a late night rap shownHere, the same old, same oldnAnd that's on your, new singlenYour product, is a product, of no productivitynCan ya, see G?nYou kick a wack stylenAnd claim to have brainsnTake the funky drummer and give him back to JamesnI'm dope, I'm dopenHeh, I can't copenKeep your cordless, cause you bore thisnYou say you're sure, yeahnbut I'm the surestnThat, Black Sheep are uniquenFunk clever brothers that willnmake the church girl freaknOut, without a doubtnYou have no wins in a '91 boutnSo shout, pout,do what you wantnBut you're out the picturenAnd I'ma get you suckanCause youse a dumb mothafuckanBetter off as a tractor trail truckernBut movin right along to the WoodstocknStop, remember when the band was on rocknNegro music, heh, seperatednIt blew up and became rapnand you hated itnThat's of course till you seenA motherfucker that, could be in your familynDrop lyrics then you hear itnWith glee, then only thing it tells menIs that you know a good thingnwhen you see it.nYou run to get a tennCause you cannot be itnSo, off the top off my headnI guess I keep it rollinnTill aaaaaaah... the rap gets stolennLike so many other things called theftnAnd when it's gone what will be leftnYOU sucker, dumb fucker don't turn bluenYou know what?nTalkin' to younYou know what?nChumpnYou know what?nYou know what?nYou know What?