Lyrics:

of deadly plagues, the death toll rises
So now you're shit outta luck with your rhyme scheme
And now, I'll hunt your punk ass in your bad dreams
Another victory on my list
One more punk ass fool with a Def Wish

(Gun shots)
Y'all done lost me a nigga, but at least I shot me a nigga
Right on time
I'll make you famous
Now when I go for my gun, start shooting
And I promise you, you will not make it
And you are dead (gun shots)

Now say your prayers, because its difficult to get with this
I'll haunt your studio, become your ghost lyricist
No mistakes I make, so don't fake
Yous as sorry as fuck, so jump your ass out a cake
Don't try to bargain with the maniac maestro
On the stage, I'm in a rage with a gangsta show
The Capital E, The Capital I, the Capital H
The Capital T, down MC
Mike T is the partner down with me
Suckers got static, here goes the G-A-T
So take a step up, and play for the rhythm
From Compton boy, and this is what I give 'em
A blast from the gat, just for talking that junk
Feel like handlin' the business might smoke the punk
I run the nine one, fool, so get hip to my ways
And don't be no hero like in the western days
At sundown, you'll press your luck and try to shoot me
Grab your Davy Crockett, I got my gangsta uzi
And after all that, you'll still be R.I.P if you fuck with me
Fool, there's your Def Wish

Geah!
You know what I'm sayin'?
MC Eiht stepping to the mothafuckin' '91
My DJ Mike T's in the mothafuckin' house
Down with the DJ Bolo, and Unknown
Geah!

Right on time
I'll make you famous
And you are dead
(Gun shots)