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10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4
3, 2, 1 reasons you'll never be this raw
My crew is representing for BK, don't play
Or you might have to get Crime Watch around your way
Cause Brooklyn keep on taking it, still from way back
Say black, trying to get that fortune like Sajak
There must be at least twenty reasons you can't win and
In this rap game you're hopeless, here's a top ten:
10's very simple and plain, it's petty crime
It's only '94 when you wrote your first rhyme
And now you think you got more Skil than power tools
But never could your feet fit up in our shoes
You only got one delivery
One-dimetional rappers is dead as chivalry
Don't get your spot blown up, block sewn up
I lift MC's to tone up, rip your zone up
I got more flavors than women's douche
Make ends with Mexicans and rock dreads in Flatbush
9, you can't see mine, can't find mine
Can't do mine, step to mine, when my crew find
A fronting-ass nigga, we get in this
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