Oh my God, oh my God. . Microphone checka, swingin' sword lecture. Closin' down the sector, supreme neck protector. Better warn 'em kid, Mr. Meth's a boiling pot.
[Erick Sermon]. I make a million buck. Every six months and y'all. Hating my game saying my name they call. Me the E wrong things. Knowing I'm fly without wings.