Yes the configuration of the S on my chest

Ripping the mic and take the best I guess

Everybody knows I'm the winner not a sinner

More punk rappers mon for dinner

Slow shit down the planet starts to Nova

Step on the low key yo Pokey (you're over)

The whole community doesn't have immunity

Step to the motherfuckin mic G me

Don't try to call your back up you shouldn't act up

You made a lot of dough off my style that you racked up

G so see these rhyming freebies -- ya lease

Played out on posters and on past CD's

Check history and hiss to me you sissy G

My success was a Hardy Boy Mystery

The bell rings things to sing and then I bring

My P.O. to lockout at Chung King

I'ma roll and roll no spliff

You call yourself a rapper, you can't wrap gifts

That you're gonna get fret cause your whippin

is gonna make you feel like you felt on Pitkin

Avenue some girls was steady stabbing you

Me and my boys across the street saying who

Is that -- the kid is wack -- who got his back

I mean I hope after I help you out buy my track

The second cut hits the got the tempo up

Yo Pokey how we gonna hit it -- what

Or the noose will be hung if you sung on the skit

Yo Pokey take it, Some-O-Next Shit

Ricochet rabbit -- pushing ping

If I wanna Luther Vandross it and sing I am the best

And after the battle nigga clean up the mess

Get ya broom and clean your wack ass tune

And let me give you some advice motherfucker yo boom

Wave em like this yo -- throw in the air

Get your vocal chords and nigga prepare

And if you like the tune and the shit sound clear

Please say something then oh yeah

Oh motherfucker, my style goes round and crazy like the Bruckner

Hard like Lerch, did a duet with Serch

I'm a Christian so I'll see Maxi Priest in church

And he'll give me the blessing to continue this skit

Yo Poket drop the shit, it's Some-O-Next Shit