Lyrics:

[Verse 1]
Yea, Original Chucks on
Laced up like I'm taking them on a run
They beggin me not to kill it I tell em I'm havin fun
They askin me how I do it I tell em get on the real
(?)
Size 11 skate on the surface like hovercraft
A superhero you would think that I was a thunder cat
I run with Dennis my village callin me Son of Sam
Sick because when I come around they sss-stutterin
My body tatted they say I look like graffiti that's why I be on the road
These regulars try and read me
The way that people was starin you would think that I was a TV
And when it comes to the haters I cannot see em like Stevie
(?) dead rappers like 6th sense, my competition ain't worth nothin like 6 cents
Misfit, I swear I'm stick shit
You'd think I was Terry Kennedy the way I make the kids flip
Too cool, handshakes and dap
Servin all of these fools like pancakes and snacks
Whoever thought that I wouldn't do damage in the tracks
Is pulling they own legs like hamstrings and calfs

Uh, I'm so (?) on my time
The Michelangelo of the second Millennium
I roll it up and get higher than condominiums
My rap's braille the way the people be feelin em
(?)
Back Back, EST is in the spot now
We be the crew, all of these fools tryna jock now
The type of dudes that'll make ya mouth drop down
(?) will be getting twisted like we guzzling Ciroc now