Where's the intruder? (Looks like he went to the tower) Before I rock raps I drink a keg of Listerine Then I spit the freshest rhymes you'll ever hear for centuries Then I form blazing sword and cut your mic cords And kill them garbage rhymes only your friends get hype for Blitz your home team them niggas need to come clean So I give 'em an acid wash like old school Levi jeans (lockjaw) Crackin' a faulty frame And I bring the house down without hijackin' planes Lock stocked with two smokin' barrels and will use it To fuck up more beats per minute than drum n' bass music Trunks ain't a rapper he's a monster from the future Twistin' your body in more positions than Kama Sutra Smart-ass gettin' the Last Word with Jim Rome With a right hand like Doctor Claw that's known for breakin' bones (I'll get you next time gadget, next time) We can have a close encounter of the fucked up kind (Time warp, set on)