[Verse 1: Frankie Wapps & Jaze Juce]
Yo that’s some outfit
I’m surprised you didn’t come here in some Kung Lao shit
Or something fresh off the set of Kung Pow 6
Yo if there’s a secret dao to be the world’s gayest clown, Dum found it
I’ll break this bastard’s spine
Let me ask you a question, if you smoke crack for highs how the fuck do you satirize?
Eh probably something like this: ‘He’s wack, he’s gay
I’m Wapps, he’s Jaze
I flow better now
In ‘07 you guys fell off the whole second round’
Goddamn, I hate this faggot
When he gets loud you can hear his Asian accent
Is it ‘cause you’re highly genetic?
I know you’re gay and comfortable with it, that makes you widely accepted
Ho, hold the phone
Is it the fucking chest cold or the dense dro or did the Fresh Coast just introduce us to the first metro egg roll?
Ay uh, it’s good the see the fucking, black Lance Bass showed up mad late with the only Asian left in his fanbase
So you’re the one who likes to take so much dick in his damn waist when you try to stand straight, ya’ hands shake
So tell me this much, how does a man taste, panface?

[Verse 1: Dumfoundead & Sahtyre]
Settle down, settle down, ‘cause this is gonna be, “awkward”
Get it, ‘cause he got served by Okwerdz
After he talked all that shit
It’s evident you did not practice
In the middle of that long-ass trip
I got a update that said ‘hey, Juce got, his ass ripped’
That’s true, we had a hard time making it here man
I know you been battling for years and while we were traveling here
Damn hold on hold on hold on, I’m sorry, no no, we can’t do that
I’ma slap ya’ boo back
We came here a long trip 10 hours and I can’t think straight
You fucking ingrates
Man I got six tapes, played on the motherfucking boombox
And yes- ah fuck
Yo I hate battling queers
We’re the only real battlers here
Earlier you lost a battle, to a man that ain’t battled in years
I know people in high places
And I know y’all been checking out our Myspaces
Is it just me or does Jaze have one of those ‘I just cried’ faces?
I be busting all day
Aw, is something wrong Jaze?
Over there wit’ your puppy dog face

[Verse 2: Frankie Wapps & Jaze Juce]
So uh, relax for a second
So what do ya’ jump out of the Temple of Doom all of a sudden you’re the boss now Short Round?
Bro why does your boy just have that hoarse sound?
Why, ‘cause you snort pounds?
Well when the Glock goes off dog, you won’t hear that soft sound
Ay Lush, why you got me battling the fucking skinnies from Black Hawk Down?
Ayo fuck what you heard dog, Jaze is the juice, you’re gonna say shit to who?
‘Specially when your mother’s a fucking Craigslist masseuse
Fuck this wack gook’s writtens
It’s obvious in the hood he couldn’t last two minutes ‘cause what experience does he have, his latest Manchu visits running through bamboo thickets?
Yo I’m banging the strip with dudes
I’d rather be slanging them whips and Rugers
It’s hopeless, he only came out to Oakland to try out for Hangin’ with Mr. Cooper
And you have nappy hair
You look like a half-black half-Spanish lesbian named Samantha Clare
These two emcees combined don’t equal half a pair
But don’t panic scare when I choke him ‘til his head hurts and he’s gasping air
Your dad owns a store, he has Aspirin there
Although I highly doubt he’ll stand and stare
When I walk in that shit with gats and chairs
And make it a fucking fam affair by murdering his favorite panda bear
[Verse 2: Dumfoundead & Sahtyre]
Why is this man pretending?
So what if his mom’s a masseuse, you’re just mad ‘cause you couldn’t get a happy ending
Get the fuck over here, this motherfucker eating ravioli, with his grandpa Tony
And his hardest decision in life is spaghetti or mostaccioli
Y’all ain’t battle rappers, you’re soccer goalies
I’ll stomp you homie
Frankie Wapps and Jaze Juce
Everybody’s been really welcoming but trust me we all hate you
We’ve hated you since the New York qualifiers
I wanna jack you for all your shit but you’re probably wired
So which one’s the one that sings “Great Balls of Fire”?
These motherfuckers look like, crooked cops
I’m just waiting for you to say ‘book ‘em Wapps’
If you guys are here who’s watching the butcher shop?
This motherfucker’s a stockbroker
He’s a cock-smoker
I don’t know, you’re both wack but I think he’s a lot doper
I don’t even know why they took the rap route
You guys shoulda just stayed in the frat house, bumping Smash Mouth
Drinking from the kegs ‘til you pass out
Man

[Verse 3: Frankie Wapps & Jaze Juce]
Yo shut the fuck up dog, ‘cause a bundle of crack is something ya’ sis needs
She’s like ‘Wapps, can I get a couple of hits please?’
I’m like ‘yeah sure, depends if you like the taste of dick cheese’
But ah, for a quick squeeze, I’ll shoot a couple of jizz streams on the Swim Team
And then laugh at your paralysis like you was Chris Reeves
Yo and you know what else is fucking funny, this puss writes his lyrics
And when you can’t boil cats they have to cook mice and crickets
And you’re such a sheltered bitch you think that hood life’s a gimmick
Dog you wanna see me hook line and sinkered? (yeah)
Your people got some good rice and chicken
But you’re fucking skinny and yellow when you stand next to me it looks like I’m pissing
And I would like your writtens
But I’m still a little offended your father’s footbinding women
Plus I rap the greatest bitch
You’re so skinny when you move your arms look like dangling paperclips
Someone tell this nerdy kid relax
Look at your fucking mug bro, you couldn’t get a Jersey bitch with that
Neither one of you’ll burn me with your tracks
Especially when New York been thought Thirsty Fish is wack
[Verse 3: Dumfoundead & Sahtyre]
Yo you guys battle awfully
That choreographed shit was cute, what is this, the Jabbawockeez?
Get the fuck outta here, okay some of those bars were dope
Too bad you got the fucking personality of a bar of soap
I got fucking nuts the size of artichokes
But when I slam ‘em down yo’ momma’s throat that bitch don’t even start to choke
You guys should tell us, how you guys got those parts in the Goodfellas
Stop rapping ‘cause you guys are, not good fellas
We live in the same state as The Saurus; they look jealous
Yeah you get that shit, n***a, I am all heat
How do you rap acapella and still sound off-beat?
I’ma chop your ass up like raw meat
You’re not from Yonkers, you’re from a small street called Wall Street
Man Frankie Wapps has a bumper sticker that says ‘Thank You Cops’
Yeah, and if you guys are the representatives I know Yonkers is corny
Y’all are the type to wear a t-shirt that says ‘honk if you’re horny’
Jazie Juce, is Frankie’s boo
And they both got each other’s name stitched on the back of daisy dukes
N***a this is Oakland, they get stupid, y’all n***as still tryna raise the roof

[Verse 4: Frankie Wapps, Jaze Juce & both]
Y’all ain’t from Strong Beach, y’all know what’s happening in Frisco
‘Cause you move like a faggot with your wrist bro
Shut the fuck up, you a manager at Quiznos
I know what is, y’all get up with your Swim Team, start packing in the shitload bumping Panic! at the Disco
Stop acting hard fam the only thing you strapping is a dildo
And your fucking cause is lost
I’ll burn you to death and then scorch your corpse
How you got me battling the Asian stuntman who runs through Okwerdz’ thoughts?
Ayo dog, you fucking OD’ing when you gulp semen
You get your dome beat in, you’ll feel like it’s for no reason
But it’s ‘cause in the WRC’s you got cheap wins the whole season
Ayo I’m white and proud
You didn’t like being Asian when I gave your girl vagina pounds in Chinatown
An excuse for cheating and leaving: ‘cause my eyes are round
I could do what I do, and battle sober
Or be like you and be a passive stoner who chills in a shabby Rover and does slabs of coca and grams of doja
Yo I don’t know why you’re addicted to what you’re chasing fam but the past is over
If you don’t stop nose-blasting coca, you’re gonna fall to the ground develop a massive ulcer your nostrils will flash and smolder and you’ll die after three years, in a fucking tragic coma
I know your nose is probably feeling the burn
But me and Juce say shit like this ‘cause dogs, we’re really concerned

[Verse 4: Dumfoundead & Sahtyre]
I don’t know what you’re telling me
‘Cause this is a freestyle battle, not a spelling bee
I don’t know what the hell you’re going through, you know it’s true
That you’re wack, and you came all the way to Cali just to go 0 and 2
I’m fucking smashing these faggots
They’re better at school, I’m better at rapping
I knew they would come with a excellent accent but I, woulda expected ‘em to have lettermen’s jackets
Pardon me Juce, weren’t you in Varsity Blues?
Y’all look like the motherfucking Blues Brothers
Y’all look like Jew brothers, y’all look like two plumbers
Y’all look like moose hunters
Y’all been stalking The Saurus for two summers
That motherfucker now needs to get a new number
His favorite vegetable is a cucumber
Ay Rogaine could do wonders
We got, Mr. Woodcock and the guy who teaches woodshop
Rapping is what you should stop
Ay your music is weak
The two oldest motherfuckers in the theater for High School Musical 3