From the heart of Medina to the
Shaolin' cats thrown inside a bing
Bobby Digital got the golden seal sting
I write a hundred thousand dollar bar
Dr. Octopus tentacles same
Bob Digital instrumental; nothing's
Deep- fried crinkle cut; one nickel-
cup fucked your whole LP up
You must be stupid, you liar
I'm the purifier, live wire,
A suicide mission you're committin'
Go against the Wu- Tang henchmen
Perfect precision marksman
Spit darts and flip charts, and
Archery shots aimed at your heart then
Daffy Duckest will still bring
Project Killa Hill be the buckest
drink Bud Light beer wit' Buzz Light- year
Wet from here to infinity
overthrow your whole citadel
Mista pitiful, your whole shrap stack
your shit cannot flourish
Cherish every moment of his
Bitch, chicka, chicka, chick,
Lookin' for a bird I can hitch
Take your pussy out like a pap smear
at the same time crack a tear
Smack ya rear, vagina saliva,
Up inside ya, dick apple head
you become strong then become a prider
Stuck to your ass like a Victoria's
Shaolin cats thrown inside the bing
Bobby Digital got the killa bee sting
Shaolin' cats is thrown inside the bing
Bobby Digital got the killa bee sting
Drink a Heineken, as we go inside
Nevermindin' men droppin'
gem - can he shine again?
Most definite; let this be
my last will and testament
exercise for the Exorcist
Johnny Treacherous, like Three,
Perpetuous, decimate the poetry
'cause everything is close to me
The lecherous Jonathon, king of the seven seas,
The Methodist, poly to your deficit; hit it up
somebody gotta give it up
John J., blow 'em out the water,
Your bitch look like Stronjay,
bringin' you different ways to sword play
They bustin' bullets over broadway,
I'm like Larry when the fish
'Cause I'm not an easy lover
To the midnight, butt naked wit' a knife
Ask my alien likes - I've
Crooked ass and crooked eye,
scripture from the dark side
I reside in the killa bee hive
Only the strong gon' survive
From the depths of the killa to the top,
Can't forget Bobby; if I did,
ain't a sandwich without Miracle Whip
From the depths of the killa to the top,
Wildin' on Staten Island be
Can't forget Digi; if I did, I'd feel gyp