This is a story, but not really a story It's just some freestyle shit My name is Rah Digga, and this here is the Outsidaz My niggas, tell 'em Since I been on television, girls been beggin' me to swell the kitten Black or white, when the lights go off, I can't tell the difference Thought you'd impress me? Well, ya didn't I got mad freestyles and hella written, the hottest fella' spittin' Never quittin', spittin' more outs than eleven innin's Cheddar-spendin', Slang Ton forever shittin', you betta' listen Hell yeah, I tell a chicken: Zee hurtin' skeeza's Fuck you with the strength of, like, thirty Hercules-es I want the cash, nigga, fuck them scabs (scabs) Stab once or twice, then the pussy up for grabs (ah) Puff the hash in front o' your mother's dad, cut a fag And put your brother's ass in a duffle bag Yeah, y'all fall in love wit' that, outsidaz comin' Leave y'all drunk like Olde English 800 (Oh) pacewon, the fire-breathin' rah-rah dragon in the dungeon American werewolf from the bricks, fuck London (Nah, nah) set it off for my 'heads in Jers' (Nah-nah, nah) swear to God, weak rappers done struck my last nerve (Nah, nah) on wit' the swerve, mad bags o' herb (Nah-nah, nah) my Outsida' click gon' get the last word Our attitude is like a bad sitcom: Nuttin' funny Slap you like you stole somethin' from me Yo, we got raps by the page like Bill Gates got money First week out, we top twenty, grungy Dummy Young Zee, come get your mouth injured Diss us, watch us pop wheelies without ninjas Run your shit wit ya for the brick city niggas Shittin' on ya like kitty litter You could do fifty sit-ups, and I don't give a fuck if he bigger I throw a right hook that could drop any nigga Y'all rock jewels that's truck like Chevy pickups (twista) All I want is money and my dick sucked (Nah, nah) set it off for my 'heads in Jers' (Nah-nah, nah, nah) swear to God, weak rappers done struck my last nerve (Nah, nah) on wit' the swerve, mad bags o' herb (Nah-nah, nah, nah) my Outsida' click gon' get the last word Az-izz got bad nerves, rank matters While you serve steak platters, I'ma die ballin', like Hank Gathers Axe get the dough, like cake batter Pockets stay fatter, the way you rhyme makes me think that you the gay rapper Face-slapper, like Roy Jones, I throw a bolo Break your team up like Chris Schwartz and Joe Niccolo Rippin' a beige Volvo, bumpin' a slang promo We sign our autographs, spell it out like K-solo The Outz' straight to disc, too hot for tape or phono' Takin photos wit' the black and gray polos Ruin niggas' lives like they K-Ci or JoJo Outsidaz takin' a loss? That's a no-no (Nah, nah) set it off for my 'heads in Jers' (Jers') (Nah, nah, nah) swear to God, weak rappers done struck my last nerve (you done struck my last nerve) (Nah, nah) on wit' the swerve, mad bags o' herb (yeah, yeah) (Nah, nah, nah) my Outsida' click gon' get the last word (Nah, nah) set it off for my 'heads in Jers' (jers') (Nah-nah, nah, nah) swear to God, weak rappers done struck my last nerve (ain't nobody fuck wit' this bitch) (Nah, nah) on wit' the swerve, mad bags o' herb (yeah, yeah, yeah) (Nah-nah, nah, nah) my Outsida' click gon' get the last word Yo, what up? It's Rob Mars, newest member of the Flip Mode Squad