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featuring Brother Marquis  Tony Rock 

Verse 1: JT Money 
Roll out the red carpet  let the bugles blow 
The pimp deserves a grand intro  y'don't know? 
I know you're sick of bubble gum w/rappers puttin' you to bed 
But not JT Money  I'm somethin' like a SudaFed 
I give relief that's far from lousy 
And get the job done without gettin' you drowsy 
Since I'm from the bottom  the other rappers tried dissin' 
But in the end, my ass they'll be kissin' 
I must state how stupid remarks 
Can cause enough friction to give off sparks 
Makin' people think that a giant king 
Couldn't come from the bottom 'cause of second string 
But I'ma make history as I get hype 
Drop a science that'll damage that stereotype 
Ask for drama, 'cause I'ma, bout to set off 
A Poisonous freestyle, instead of 
The average, ordinary everyday thing 
I'm outstandin', leavin' rappers out standin' in the rain 
Poison like venom, gettin' in 'em, then I conquer 
When I'm finished rockin' you're jockin' for an encore 
My masterpieces will smash to pieces 
Or should I say demo, the mass that reaches 
You better take a bufferin' with sufferin' from 
The wrath of the style that can't be outdone 
It's like that y'all, 'cause I'm the ultimate 
Yo, Tony Rock, take the stand 'cause I'm about to sit! 

Verse 2: Tony Rock 
MC's up north, and niggas like Spike take shorts 
Thinkin' that the only rappers live in New York 
Dick-heads like you, they don't know the deal 
Sayin' if it's not from up there, it can't be real 
But since you're ignorant and stupid at best, 
I'll have to break this down from the simplest 
See Tony Rock make a microphone check 
Now see him on stage breakin' a sucka nigga's neck 
Y'all takin' rap back? Get off of that cake! 
The only thing you might be able to take is this dick 
Sayin' weak-ass rhymes on records and video 
Grabbin' on the dick and start cursin', and even though 
You front to be hard while the cameras start shootin' 
Knowin' goody-damn well that you as soft as a fig newton 
If we was cars, I'd be a Porsche and you, a Nova 
On card games, you're Pitty-pat and I'm Poker 
I grab the microphone 'cause I can't wait to smoke a, 
Sucka like you, you no-rhymin' joker 
Steppin' on stage, and goin' into fits 
Workin' up a sweat, but you ain't rockin' shit 
Sayin' weak-ass rhymes, tryin' your best to work the fans up 
Why don't you drop the microphone and come out with your hands up? 
Just because you're from up there, you ain't got it like that 
Boy, you could be killed, and you don't want that 
I'm sayin' rhymes on a funky-ass cut 
Marquis, go for yours, because I got MY nut! 

Verse 3: Brother Marquis 
I treat rappers like hoes, roll 'em like vogues 
Count 'em and fold 'em and stuff and stack 'em like bank-rolls 
I'm never on the runnin', MC's confronted 
Always in my face, wantin' to start somethin' 
I can't keep silent 'cause I'm lyrically violent 
Step to me, boy, step off, don't even try it 
I giddy up and go, so smooth when I flow 
I make suckas get goin' like a 5.0 
Ya see, I'll massacre, sit back and laught at ya, 
And when you're finished, then I'll embarrass ya 
I'm the aggressor, the professor 
(I injure/I'll end ya) like a ninja with a lyrical lecture 
Marquis gets silky as I recite 'em 
Rappers are germs, I'm peroxide to fight 'em 
I blitz, throwin' hits that'll put you in a coffin 
Treat you like an orphan, causing you to soften 
People say I'm immaculent, but I'm past that 
Others get laughed at, 'cause they ain't half that 
They try to achieve, but can't succeed 
They only get stomped on when I stampede 
It's like that, punks, and you all know 
Debonaire, the Devil's Dad, continue to flow! 

Verse 4: Debonaire 
Debonaire, the Devil's Dad, is last on the agenda 
Talkin' 'bout how brothers constantly pretend to 
Be from up North, New York, yeah, Medina 
The grass ain't greener! I guess they never seen a 
Rapper from another region gettin' the loot 
I'm from the bottom, and got girls feedin' me fruit 
And droppin' flowers every time I walk 
Is my music identical to that of New York? 
It's original, comin' from the bottom, analyze it 
You could come off on your own, but no one tries it 
They'd rather have some sloppy jalopy 
And get called a wanna-be because they try to copy 
But see, the boys, we just laugh 
Ain't a counterfeit rapper on the Skyywalker staff! 
And so the wanna-be's bite the dust 
They ain't certified to rap beside none of us! 
And 'cause I'm strictly B-U-S-I-N-E-double S 
They panickin', stiff like manequins from all the stress 
No one there to mend; they look soft 
Anyway, I'm outta here, signin' the fuck off!

Видео-клип к песне Poison Freestyle

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