Texty: Dr. Ama. Split Personali-d. Be Serious.

(feat. Block McCloud)

[Dr. Ama:]
Bredren, let's play to win or don't play at all
Hustle hard ya'll cause welfare don't pay it all
Doc Ama, stay on call to brawl
Frauds lift at the applause, sell leads over wars
Show that rage on stage when asked to engage
They bitch made, stay with shit in they drawers
Ya'll clowns funny like MadTV, cop the bootleg of your sad CD
But what really sad is me
M.C.'s ain't M.C.'s no more, and hip hop
Turned into a two dollar whore
And New York niggas trying to be coutry to score
I'm here at the industry door with the four to wage war
Would love to sign a deal with Def Jam, but what's left, fam?
Can't quit, promote my own shit til nothing left, fam
Walk my own to the bone, that's how it's going down here
Two MC's, don't clown here, don't come around here

[Chorus: Dr. Ama (girl)]
50 Cent's the hardest? Come on (be serious)
Ludacris the livest? Come on (be serious)
Lil' Wayne, be serious
South run hip hop? You can't be serious

[Block McCloud:]
Be the worse to wear it, and the church won't care
Search and find ya body in the dirt somewhere
Let the darkness begin, my style harvest where the sharks grin
Sharpshooting time marksman
Find your hollow carcass in the park, pigeons
Starving each your armpits, maggots part ya lips
To partition your skin, scars and digits, hard decisions
Fucking with my squad or live it
You artificial niggas, the target is you, play my bottom issue
Desert eagle miss and marks your tissue
Gotta kiss you, mwuah, Satan's gonna spit on you
You a joke to him cause son's done little you
And slug something pitiful, put the hit on you
That's how I make hits, my tongue shapeshift to make the snakes hiss

[Chorus]

[Dr. Ama:]
You not the man-man, crush your life in the palm of my hand, man
We grand stand, out to stick up bitch, then escape in the van, man
You'se a fraud, even your broad like Ama you can-can
Bang the gooshy, she ready to push you out the plan, man
Doc a/k/a the Sandman, put clowns to sleep with the blam blam
The hammer pop, put dots in your Trans Am
Go head flap ya gums, must of forgot we got guns
Snitch home, blocks is hot for putting work with the black one
I'm nice, B, even your favorite MC recite me
A hype V, grapple the mic device ignite excitedly
You don't excite me, who give a fuck if you icey
With the poker, poke holes in you like the IV
I'm sheisty, with the moca blow holes in your white tee
Quick to stroke ya, fill up the holes in your wifey
Play the strip nightly, S.I.C., the night breed
The mic fiend, peace to the God Rakim and Prince Rakeem

[Chorus]