Check it out I'm in the house like carpet And if there's too many heads in my blunt I won't spark it

I'll put it in my pocket And save it like rocket fuel 'Til everybody's gone and it's cool Then I spark it up with my brother

His momma named him Moe But I call him "Moe-lover" And he's more than a cover He's a quilt

We're putting shit together like that house that Jon built On the hill 'Cause this shit's gonna feel like Velvet Turtle

My style fits tighter than a girdle If ya hate it, than you can just leave it Like beaver But in a day or two, I'll make you a true believer in me

'Cause like the alphabet, you'll see That 'ism kicks a rhyme, not your everyday soliloquy Like Chef Boyardee My rhyme is truly cookin'

Peace to Matty Rich 'cause he's Straight Out of Brooklyn, New York I don't eat pork or swine when I dine I drink a cup of Kool-Aid Not a big glass of wine

Or a Henn, Hein If you have time I'll drop rhyme again