Next in command it's the five-foot-eight
And three-quarter, warrior
Take a stroll down my corridor
I can effortlessly instantly burn
MC's into effergy it's treachery

'Cause my skills have developed
I envelope situations that I'm facin'
Each lacin' and I'm chasin' those, the suppose
That their game wasn't so phat
Yeah, right, punk, you know that

Forget the media labels
'Cause most of the ducks are fucked up and unstable
Scared of the black stuff but I like to act up
And get real ill 'cause I'm too hot to chill, stupid

Scratching, what you expected

Pussy, step back, fake Jake, I don't get down like that
I kick the facts, then I sit and I mack
With a sound like that you a one thousand, whack
Get a think link, try to hang
And bang, now your head swings

'Cause my intellect is universal
For me to do or die with no rehearsal
One verse will take you outta
The weak format and bitch, MC's can take a powder

Still, you scower and skin your grill up
But you'll be a casualty that got filled up
With my ammo, 'cause I slam your ass
To the concrete, you got defeated punk

Scratching, what you expected

Came to collect my loot, what you expected
I like the girl that's cute, what you expected
Givin' MC's the boot, what you expected
I do my duty what you expected

Scratching, what you expected

Five albums, deep into this rap game
I slap lame 'cause straight is my aim
As I state my claim as the Bald Head Pimpsta
Here to administer, sinister attacks upon those who lack

The ability to finesse the beat vocal techniques
I slam like Dominique and you know
My rhymes are punishin' like torture to your structure
Brain cells rupture, what you expected

Scratching, what you expected

I came to get the doe, what you expected
I came to mack the hoes, what you expected
I came to strictly flow, what you expected
Look out, I'm about to blow, hit the exit