Rah Digga]
Yeh, check it out now (uhh uhh uhh)
Rah Digga y'all, Dirty Harriet (uhh!)
Kweli, Xzibit, new millenium! (C'mon, check it)
One, two, three, four
Grimy bitch stomp the bogey outside your front door (yeah)
Puffin on Goodie, eatin tuna and rye
Blow the spot with some old school shit from junior high (HEYYY!)
One, two, three, four
Jersey's finest in the house, punchlines and metaphors
Make your foul ice grill, thug grimy on the real
Puttin heads to bed like Hennessey and NyQuil
Convertible style, still had the heat knockin
Bumpin shit from way back with my man beatboxin
Shootin the breeze - see I'm nice with these
You'll be suckin it down like fast food high-C's
Type of rap bitch that love underground classics
Gettin more green than that nigga St. Patrick
Makin wack rappers go and merc the set {*dial-up sounds*}
Better off behind a desk tryin to surf the net
cause I be adamant, kill 'em when my joints get added in
Worse than boric acid in your project cabinet
Dirty Harriet, increase the fanbases
Leavin non-writin cats stuck on the plantations
Mini-skirts with tights, eatin lunch with whites
Leave the party over here like they Israelites
Got Cali Brooks critics, Ta' Kwe'(??) Xzibit
Gonna rock shit down like he can't get no visits
One, two, three, four
Rock the whole world like the Rolling Stone tour (AH-AHHH!)
Raw your wack set is faker than a bomb threat
by a nervous terrorist who's so scared that his palms wet
One, two, three, four
The stuff legends are made of, urban folklore
Like Jim Morrison we break on through
Before I care about your take on me, we take on you-aca