(Thirstin Howl III) The rhymes you about to hear nevertheless of my own This is for all you young MC's oh my how you've grown You got bigger better stronger and much faster I remember you were small or slow With a speech impediment and had asthma You a comedian when you started doin stand up? And where you come up with all these fuckin stupid answers? Your rhymes would be cute If you wrote em on a pad that was pink When MC's think, they're above the rim I make them realize they really below the sink Before we battle, check it out, I got these rules You can't say: nine, spine, time All that shit is pre-school You could talk of shootings, but tell me so I would be clear But don't brag about coke deliveries that will never be here Don't mention your chickenhead and all her clothes by Versace When she needs some orthopedic shoes - she's pigeontoed and knock-kneed Save me the part about, Timb's and bandanas Frontin in front of cameras, braggin about what your man does I heard enough: glocks, cocks last year That took niggaz to the cashier But that ain't happenin for your ass here I'm amazed in your sudden interest for espanol But see, I won't, rhyme, out the house, unless I'm told Don't speak of ice unless it's from the freezer Your Rolex and Lexus in Texas, I don't wanna hear that either How much cash you got is really none of my concern As long as all of this is established, let me hear you, it's your turn