[Freddie Foxxx a.k.a. Bumpy Knuckles]. Hahahaha.... Y'all know the rep yeah listen. My name is Bumpy Knuckles I write that fuckin flame. And kill for the right price I got a buckin name. My forty caliber too fresh stuck in aim. We roll like 18 wheelers in the truckin game. I'm nice with mics there's nothin more I like. than to paralyze your left side and leave you all right. I be layin front of your crib with Tec-y all night. Tryin to get them 9 millimeters loaded up tight listen. I'm like a Cadillac I write a battle rap. so smooth contest you'll be out of that. Y'all know the beef is stewin that Bumpy came to ruin. You may be signed but you don't know what the fuck you doin. I make aight hot I make dope raw. And send you higher than a long Colt four-four. You know the only rap pimp that kept a ho poor. And slam a fool on his back and break the whole floor. [Chorus: Bumpy Knuckles]. A yes yes y'all and you don't stop. We keep on once the cops are gone. This is real street spit you best be warned. Tell your favorite MC the mic is on. A yes yes y'all and you don't stop. We keep on once the cops are gone. [John Cena]. Yeah yeah. It's the J daddy not Hov' or Jam Master. My mic is correct but y'all know the hands faster. See you bitch rappers I'm attackin the pile. Y'all be cryin foul cause I'm hackin your style. I make sure you and your mans done. When I see y'all both drop I'm the cat screamin And1. You see me on the team dog you know the game's over. Stones on my wrist and a chip on my shoulder. Sixteens cashin in on another hot beat. Go cop me a drop with the butterscotch seats. And we better not meet if we do you gon' see a change. Make sure you whole FACE gettin rearranged. We rollin up in the blacked out truck dog. It's Freddie Foxxx now you deal with Corrupt Mob. It's gas on the fire any time a track blaze. Squad known to beef up the Heat just like the Shaq trade. [Tha Trademarc]. This my 9 to 5 this ain't no hobby cat. Copycat killers bite styles my rhyme piles is heavy. Give me a beat man I'll body that. Spittin that heat street raps man they nod to that. What you smilin at? You R&B man that's hardly rap. You lost the beat man you bought a map. Matter fact here's my next rap borrow that. Been off the street too long I want my corner back. You ain't a player you a armchair quarterback. You ride the beat like side streets on a flat. Don't play dumb I know where you came from. You only seen slugs buddy after the rain come. Keep it subtle Trademarc got you bitch. like babies suckin tits talkin 'bout mami let's cuddle. It's gon' be what it's gon' be you duck down. A quiet cat with a violent rap what now?. [Chorus]