[Verse 1: Shock G & Money B]
Knick-knack paddy whack, give a groupie a bone
Then after that I give her cab fare home
I can’t stop, I guess I’m not finished yet
You say I’m not the Shock, man
Y’all don’t know me yet?
The piano-player rapper from the Digital set
Put the satin on your girl then I get her all wet
She’s intrigued by the way that I do my thing
(Do what thing?)
I touch her organ with a chord and make it sing
I have the capability to mack at will
Relax, put it all on a bitch to get skrill
(Mon keeps on pimpin’)
I’m never giving ‘em scratch
Smack me? Imagine that
I get goosebumps when the bassline thumps
Then I’m serving them raw, no publicity stunts
I consider myself better than average
Yo, I rock the mic, but only for cabbage

[Hook]
Cause weesome hustlas

[Verse 2: Humpty Hump, Shock G, Money B, Shock G & Money B]
I need a Subway sandwich
Yes, I want the pan switched
I saw you digging but you didn’t wash your hand, bitch
You gettin’ a five piece, son, you think your dad’s rich?
Fast food generation, grease doing damage
Emcees, you’re not 2Pac
You look tired, go back to selling rocks
‘Cause in the end, do you care about the nameless?
‘Cause if not, you're just a wannabe famous
I’m from the O.A.K. in the Golden State
Making moves like chess, n***as be a mess
Wear a vest 'cause young bucks might run up
For the come up, put two in your stomach
But nevertheless I’m so V.I.P
To those that’s unaware, you can’t fuck with me
Cause M.B stand from Mack a Bitch proper
And the capital M capital O, N-E-Y
Not, let your chick choose, you can’t stop her
No need to get ill, n***as a bust up your grill
There’s two things to check out, the words we sayin’
Plus listen to the MP' playing
The remake, original by Erick Sermon
And the Parrish Smith slow flow
Got the spot burning
Emcees, let me show you how you sound
Look at the money that I’m holding down
I’m rich, I’m rich, MTV'll give you credit
But keep it up and BET'll say forget it!
[Hook]
Cause weesome hustlas

[Chorus]
Get down, get down
Time keep on slippin’
Get down, get down
We gettin’ down
(Ta ta ra ta ra ra ra ra ra ra ra ra
Get down
Ta ta ra ta ra ra ra ra ra ra ra ra)
Get down, get down
This clowns keep on trippin’ (trippin’)
Get down, get down
(Get down)
We gettin’ down
(Ta ta ra ta ra ra ra
Ta ta ra ta ra ra ra
Ta ta ra ta ra ra ra ra ra ra ra ra)

[Verse 3: Money B, Shock G, Humpty Hump]
Praying like a prey when the fox in action
I’m in the club, time to make it happen
Camouflage give her more, my cap is off (Mh)
Plus I be Talkin’ Dirty After Dark
My eyes closed like Steve Austin, you sittin’ with a square
I can’t let you dear, naw, that ain’t fair
So I turns up my pimpin’, then pop my collar
Slide up on the breezy, say "Hmm I got her"
By now emcees you should be noddin’ your head
My flow is hungry ‘cause it hadn’t been fed
The process of my graduation was quite simple
Started out as a black head, went pop like a pimple
Got the head like lettuce, let her toss my salad
Had to block the kisses ‘cause her breath was invalid
But Humpty, stands for cold party doctor
The capital H, capital U, capital M-P-T-Y no doubt
The chief party rocker
The A.K.A
(Capital A, capital K, capital S, H, O, C, K
Capital G...Capital D...U...the Digital Underground)
You said you seen me talkin’ on VH1
About that one bright fella and how it all begun
Now that you know, you need to come bust one
Get up in the show, help us get it crunk son
You can follow me, fellow, every move that I make
I’m strong, I’m peaceful, I’m fair and I don’t flake
So ring the alarm ‘cause that what’s really goin’ on
And here’s my business card, visit ShockG.com
M-o-n-e-y B, the Thrilla in Manila
AKA Absolut ‘n Cran chiller
Money B is drunk, baby let’s get it crunkin’
I beat it up like you owe me somethin’
When I walk through the crowd, I see chicks grinning
I hear voices sayin’ that‘s M-o-n and
Not only from the women but from the bros
But n***a, I’m tryna fuck with these hoes
When I’m up the in club, you’ll notice one thing
I got bounce, no static, no bling
I’m like the bounty hunter
The hooker picker-upper
Tell you up front, the judge is gonna be a sucker
Like Attica, we ain’t tryna be in it
But if the beat got heat Dialect might spin it
D’s spinnin', cashin’ them checks
From doing shows until there’s no dough left
‘Cause weesome hustlas!