Son, he's shook... "'Cause there ain't no such thing as a halfway crook
And he's scared to death and he's scared to look, he's shook
They laugh at him 'cause he's white with a mic
Contain those rhymes, put them in storage, it's his time
'Cause this is underground hip-hop, he don't belong he's a tourist
He feel like, he still might, and it's still bright
This is real life, he wanted to jump off the stage, kill mic's
He's still white, and he hates life, all of the brake lights
And now he got stage fright and is drawn to his own damn blank mind
"Greg Buel, he went with us to the same school?"
That ain't cool, he's the same age as you
Oh wait... And he's sleeping with your momma too?
Man, you've just been blinded fool
From the reality of your mom mistaking love from being misused
And so there was three from the "Free World", against one from the odd roads
They never ended up getting with his wickedy-lickety
Shot's were shot when he spit-it, he split-it-a-lickety
Show 'em tonight B-Rabbit, show 'em that rappin' is your habit and your passion
All he heard was blah debede blah blah bedebe blah bloobah
He didn't listen to a word they said... hebedehooplah
And at the end, Papa Doc didn't want to battle and defend
'Cause son, he was shook, there ain't no such thing as a halfway crook
And he was scared to death and he was scared to look, he's shook
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