Ahhh, hear! Ahhh, hear!

It's a figure of speech when some artists start to teach

But when I start I teach and reach

The hearts of people who really truly give a damn about music

Whether that is a man or woman

Book book book book book I could write a book about

Wife who don't know where to teach like chalk (?)

Or Tu Pac or Paris or the Rebel MC rapping stupid

Just listen to me

You may say that's another brother out to get money

Well you're right

I need money like honey

But for the right thing when I rap and sing

Not for jumping around the stage and showing the girls my black ding-a-ling

Your image is based on your bodies

Why you doing music? Is it just a hobby?

These things are going on in the music industry

Money, brain insane, fame fame, endlessly

I can't take it no more, it's getting worse

I'm getting well vexed listening to the second verse

This song, you have to stop, look, and listen

Hear no bullshit, see no bullshit, say no bullshit, diss 'em

You think you're god's gift, you're a liar

I wouldn't piss on you, if you were on fire

(Repeat)

You say Fusion, why you always like to cuss

'Cause I can't change the world if I miss the bus

Sorry, sorry, sorry, for the flavor of the month

Criss Cross, Vanilla, Markey Mark and the Funky Bunch

Markey Mark, surrounded by negroes

You don't need blackies to be rap heroes

Just brains and put 'em to the test

Not a fourth damn small and a muscle-bound chest

Criss Cross, what can I say?

I hope your beat matures then your beats will stay

Vanilla, huh! you sometimes ponder

Ice, ice, baby, now he's the one hit wonder

Credit, rough without a doubt

Make you jump and shout, make the idiots shut their mouth

Who says people the conscious lyrics

And rappers the cats and evil spirits

Me, because it needs to be said

The plastic music has to drop down dead

MC Fusion on a hip hop mission

Hear no bullshit, see no bullshit, say no bullshit, diss 'em

You think you're god's gift, you're a liar

I wouldn't piss on you, if you were on fire

(Repeat)

Pom, pom, and the conscious woman

I say the woman first 'cause it's always the man

Respect due 'cause I said it before

That women are the same, we don't need a war

Mickety Mack this, Vanilla Ice that

Markey Mark this, pretending that he's black

Book book book book book it in your brain

For doing those lyrics you must be insane

And videos taking over MTV

Twenty women one man, ha ha, reality, please!

Don't even give me that crap

There must have been some reason why they give you heart attack

Love songs come straight from your heart

Not from your ass, you liquor ass

Fobbing us up with that cliche crap

But the cliche crap is at the top of the map

Or the charts, or whatever you want call it

Stop it, before me drop it

Listen to the radio, watching television

The words that you speak, ha, diss 'em

You think you're god's gift, you're a liar

I wouldn't piss on you, if you were on fire

(Repeat)

Just a lizard tongue telling stories

Now fire in your lick-spittle mouth