Lyrics:

Just Plug Me In Just Like I Was Eddie Harris

You're Eating Crazy Cheese Like You'd Think I'm From Paris

You Know I Get Fly You Think I Get High

You Know That I'm Gone And I'm A Tell You All Why

So Tell Me Who Are You Dissing Maybe I'm Missing

The Reason That You're Smiling or Wilding

So Listen In My Head I Just Want To Take 'em Down

Imagination Set Loose And I'm Gonna Shake 'em Down

Let It Flow Like A Mud Slide

When I Get On I Like To Ride And Glide

I've Got Depth Of Perception In My Text Y'all

I Get Props At My Mention 'Cause I Vex Y'All

So What'cha Want

I get So Funny With The Money That You Flaunt

I said Where'd You Get Your Information From Huh?

You Think That You Can Front When Revelation Comes



Yeh, You Can't Front On That



Well They Call Me Mike D The Ever Loving Man

I'm Like Spoonie Gee Well I'm The Metropolitician

You Scream And You Holler About My Chevy Impala

But The Sweat Is Getting Wet Around The Ring Around Your Collar

But Like A Dream I'm Flowing Without No Stopping

Sweeter Than A Cherry Pie With Ready Whip Topping

Goin' From Mic To Mic Kickin' It Wall To Wall

Well I'll Be Calling Out You People Like A Casting Call

Well It's Wack When You're Jacked In The Back Of A Ride

With Your Know With Your Flow When You're Out Getting By

Believe Me What You See Is What You Get

And You See Me I'm Coming Off As You Can Bet

Well I Think I'm Losing My Mind This Time

This Time I'm Losing My Mind

That's Right, Said I Think I'm Losing My Mind This Time

This Time I'm Losing My Mind



Yeh, You Can't Front On That



But Little Do You Know About Something That I Talk About

I'm Tired Of Driving It's Due Time That I Walk About

But In The Meantime, I'm Wise To The Demise

I've Got Eyes In The Back Of My Head So I Realize

Well I'm Dr. Spock I'm Here To Rock Y'All

I Want You Off The Wall If You're Playing The Wall

I said What'cha Want

Y'All Suckers Write Me Checks And Then They Bounce

So I Reach Into My Pocket For The Fresh Amount

See I'm The Long Leaner Vincent The Cleaner

I'm The Illest Motherfucker From Here To Gardena

I'm As Cool As A Cucumber In A Bowl Of Hot Sauce

You've Got The Rhyme And Reason But No Cause

Well If You're Hot To Trot You Think You're Slicker Than Grease

I've Got News For You Crews You'll Be Sucking Like A Leach



You Can't Front On That

So What'cha Want