Uh, back down in the jungles up under the stick, things been quiet for a pretty little bit. One morning bright and soon, that motherfucker come out of his room.He was wearing a bulletproof watch and a zoot suit, come out and tell that bitch she wasn't cute. He looked at Mr. Lyon and said,Woo, Mr. Lyon, said something come down here, said, we ain't talk about you, I ain't even need to see your grandma or myself for a piece.That Lyon got so mad he jumped and trimmed the tree, chopped baby giraffes and mucked it down on their knees.He went on down the jungle where he was jumpin' and rollin', jumpin' and pawin', poppin' his tail, wasn't a 44.He saw Mr. F lyin' on the side of the tree, said, get up, big rusty motherfucker, you are me.Mr. F looked at him out of the corner of the eye, said, look at him, big boy, said, I ain't talkin' about you.Said, go on, get somebody on your side.Like a streak of light in a bowl of heat, that Lyon jumped on that motherfucker to all four feet.When that Lyon back, made a pass, the head on his side, said, I'm knockin' dead on his ass.And he drove back in the jungle, more dead than alive, that motherfuckin' mother start somethin' he signified.Said, whoa, whoa, whoa, Mr. Lyon, you talkin' about you was fast.Look at that, you ain't got no hair to cover your ass.He drove back in the jungle, more dead than alive, that's when that motherfucker jumpin' and start somethin' he signified.Said, look at him, said, every time me and my wife go together, little bitch, you comin' out over you, ***.Said, anyhow, said, get up out of my tree before I take a note from the peak.He jumped from a little limb, all the way around, the foot slippin', the black guy hit the ground.And that Lyon covered him, said, look at him, Mr. Lyon, said, hold it.Said, little firefighter, you stand over here, and I'll stand over there.That Lyon backed up the firefighter, that motherfucker run and slam out of sight.