This is a song about "Spitting real facts"

But first let me lay down a couple more facts,

I'm on the stage, you in the stands

These are real facts, now i don't deal crack, i'm packing macs,

Hop over, run backwards, with a knap sack of green supreme hats

Ya'll had your run, don't ruin ours

Real g when i'm spitting bars

And it seems that fag mcees hate facts.

In the t.dot i'm a soldier with ranks

39. i'm the key to the facts,

I gave ya'll wizardry with my hands

Would dreams actually become facts?

Cause if i shoot blanks, oops, thanks

Smashing stereos and emcees, just bringing the facts/

Bitches don't clap with their hands, so i do not talk to my hands

Bitch, you tried to play me like a dummy

Spitting venomous acidity