Lyrics:

“The dozens” is a verbal sparring game of stacking disses. Here is a bunch of info about it.
Yo, Professor Puff'n'stuff
Hit me with some beatbox

Ah, yah. That's right. This one's for all the naysayers and dreamslayers who told the Hawkman it couldn't be done. Listen up

Your Momma is so fat, she's got a trash bag for a sock
She's so hairy, she looks like she's got Don King in a headlock
Your Momma is so ugly that her dog won't give her fleas
You could stick her face in dough and make monster cookies
Your momma's so damn big, her ass affects the tide
She's so huge that on their honeymoon, your Dad hired a guide
Your momma's so damn poor, she can't even afford lice
Yo, the bitch got married 'cuz she needed rice

Ha, ha, ha. That's right. I'm talking about your damn Momma. She's such a skank the other night I had to park my dick on her ass and wait an hour to get in. Yo, check this out

Your momma is so skank she's like hot ass on a cold day
She's so poor that at McDonald's, she puts food on layaway
Your momma is like lettuce, a quarter a head
When I said 'Act your age' the bitch dropped dead
Your momma's so fat, when she hauls ass it takes two trips
Someone tried to kiss her, but he couldn't find her lips
Your momma's so damn ugly, Michael Jackson wants her bones
She's such a fucking skank, she'll give you V.D. through the phone

Ha, ha, ha. That's right. What you got to say about it, bitch?