Ay o ooooSo I'ma spit in your faceStraight out the back, I come straight off my backWith a gun like I'm in IraqAnd in fact, I attack and tackle and sack and crackAnd crackle and snap back and battle my own shadowCause ya'll wackin' all thatBullsh-t ya talkin', startin' to get funkyToss me the trunky, I'ma boot these funkiesStir, I'm from the block but you don't pass like a flunkyWe make a b-tch a mule and everybody act a donkeyYes, I want you to come around here with that plan, boyI'll shoot this motha-b-tch till I burn my hand, boyBust up in the court and shoot the witness on the stand, boyThis is my game as everybody understands, boyI'm all red, I'm on fire like an empireThey put the cramp down if I put the stamp downYou get the stampede, I make blood bleedYou suck, I succeedYeah, yeahAnd this is how victory tastesSo I'ma sting your faceKevinSingin' ay-oh-oh-oh-oh, ay-oh-oh-ohAy-oh-oh-oh-oh-ohSo I'ma sting your faceSingin' ay-oh-oh-oh-oh, ay-oh-oh-ohAy-oh-oh-oh-oh-ohSo I'ma sting your faceIf this is a race, I ain't goin' for no placeI am goin' for your place while you're homeHow you gon' with me if I ain't been around?Two eyes to the sky, ten toes touchin' the groundI am not your homeboyWe are not from the same homeboyMy Nina big gon' bring your joyI destroy who you employI shoot twelve rounds, now Junior Jones drawY'all so backwards, I don't do backwardsI'm a swisher, manEight in the morning, you're about to get found by a fishermanYeah, you guys is little girlsAnd Mr. Smith and Wesson wanna kiss your girlCuttin' crystal angel and spittin' fire at the devilAnd I ain't doin' ever for the root of all evilGold, silver, bronze, new, tie that black metalTurn your motherf***** flowers to feathersI'm fly to heaven, KevinAy-oh-oh-oh-oh, ay-oh-oh-ohAy-oh-oh-oh-oh-ohSo I'ma sting your faceAy-oh-oh-oh-oh, ay-oh-oh-ohAy-oh-oh-oh-ohSo I'ma sting your faceAnd crazies, well, they callin' meBut crazy isn't hardly what I amTry creatively, retardedI'm amazingly rewardedAin't no faith in me, the artist never crackI'm crack, I'm dope and Reynolds rapNow let's just hope you get it backLet's just hope that you get itAnd if I have anything to do with it, motherf*****, I did itYeah, young tune, gorilla monsoonMr. Martian, we'll hang your ass from the moonCause you get sun, you just get it soonTurn the ID to a tuneGoons are us, the food's for usWe eat with our hands, no fork and spoon for usWe will take the knives, and we will take the wivesAnd we won't take the jewelry, but we will take the livesAnd I know pain, but I'ma help you get throughSo I'ma sting your faceAy-oh-oh-oh, ay-oh-oh-ohAy-oh-oh-oh-ohSo I'ma sting your faceI'ma sting your face