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[Featuring Red Hot Lover Lover Tone  Grand Puba] 
Check it out... 
Verse One: Red Hot Lover Lover Tone 
The pen hits the paper  ink spills and fills  the lines 
With lyrics that thrills like my dillz 
Take it on the Grilled Cheese tour  then I drop it 
Don't care about the niggaz cause the girls are gonna jock it 
Take her to my hotel  no speaking  just freaking 
Leave my door open so the niggaz can come peak in 
Rip the nappy dug out niggaz bug out with the hopes 
they can get theirs, but in the meantime they takin notes 
Here comes my kid, here comes my kid (ahhhhh) 
But I caught him in the rubber lid, huh 
Chitty chitty bang bang, gotta go gotta go 
The hoe is in a coma so I tippy tippy toe 
Walkin in the dark (tripped) slipped on my shoe 
(Arrrrgh!! Ohh shit!!) [Tone is that you?] 
Damn, more fornication 
Puba take the mic cuz I'm here for the duration 
Verse Two: Grand Puba 
Before I get this wreck I usually start with a 40 
But forties are no more cuz now I'm drinkin 64's 
Call on Grand Puba, Chubb Rock if you want it done 
Hon spread the 411 as if her name was Kaity Chung 
Into devil bashing, always stay in fashion 
Love maxing and relaxing, hittin skins with a passion 
As a shorty I kept some dice I banked on seven or eleven 
Cuz my pops had it hard similar to James Evans 
Now shit flipped, I'm on the hip-hop 
To the beat you don't stop, rock on! 
I kick the new type of lingo, hit the spot that'll tingle 
Make the girls wanna jingle, so they run and get the single 
My simple task is to make you shake that ass 
on the quick fast, and to make it last 
It's just three men at Chung King getting busy 
We've come a long way since Kunta Kintizzy 
and you don't stop, rock on 
Chubb Rock flip the script cuz I'm gone 
Verse Three: Chubb Rock 
Yippi-yi-yeah, stay, hooray, yo, hurrah 
I jumped up upon the mic with the Chubbster, Tone, plus the Pu-ba 
Intricately go far 
Chillin in the mansion, nuff fashion (ahhh) 
Relax, and dig into the track and react 
I want a Martin Luther riff cuz I don't like to pack my iron 
Watchin kids on the corner buyin, gettin zooted then lyin 
Test and I commence, to firing 
One two three shots and then I tune the black watch 
Reclean my cylinder and then I grab my crotch 
and squeeze, the testes and then I grab my wood and cup it 
Oh there goes the nut I just busted 
Get myself together, cuz I'm the man 
I knew it, I wanted to do a duet with the Grand 
Mystic ruler took the 40 out of the cooler 
Now we're rippin the track, we shoulda did one sooner 
And then we roll up on the groove field assist the team 
And now I'm straighter than 9:15 
Get a little dough for this three man skit 
I'll end the jam with a curse 
Uhh, umm fuck? 
Or is it damn? Or what? 
SHIT. And slide out of the vocal booth and get a dollar Chung King 
soda 
Grand Puba, Tone, plus now we're over and we're out

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