[Intro: Luke]
Yo, it's a fucked-up thing!
I gotta bring Kid N' Play on this motherfuckin' album here
Two pussy punk-ass n***as
Yo, check this out, what I'mma do
Is I'mma go get last year's rookie of the year
JT Money of Poison Clan
This year's rookie of the year, Bustdown
Yo, Bustdown, kick some of that West Bank shit on these fuck n***as!

[Verse 1: Bustdown]
Well, I'm first up as a rhyme conveyor
Luke Records in the house for the payback, player
Kid N' Play can suck a dick
Get me a mic and a 40 and let a real n***a wreck shit
To me you're walking on a tightrope
Instead of tryin' to be real, you're steady sweatin' them white folks
Keep runnin' your big mouth
But if you come to my hood, you'll get your asshole ripped out
Then I'mma play you to the back seat
Cause I'm runnin' more game than a track meet athlete
As if you didn't know, huh
You're dealing with a West Bank dicksman, ho
But anyway, I got a rhyme to deliver
Get your draws out your ass, quit frontin', my n***a
Cause if you don't, well you'll keep gettin dissed on
And if I see you at a show and you're slippin'
You're gettin' pissed on
[Chorus]
What about Kid N' Play?
(Wick-wick-wack!)

[Verse 2: JT Money]
Now for starters, with kids I don't play
Cause y'all some fuck-ass, punk-ass, coochie n***as anyway
JT I the house, n***as, check it
Tryin' to diss my n***a Luke to sell your wack record
Let me talk about the Kid
I remember some ol' coochie-n***a shit you did
When we was up in New York
You was followin' Luke, talkin' 'bout "We gotta talk"
On that man's dick
Got your ass wide open and you're talkin' that bullshit
Both movies, I boo 'em
Cause you had hoes but you wasn't stickin' pipe to 'em
Thought they was fantastic
But through the whole fuckin' movie, Kid was gettin' his ass kicked
And 'bout that other n***a Play
He needs to get dissed cause he's a punk n***a anyway
Be 'round here kissin' hoes, while I'm dissin' hoes
And stabbin 'em with fishin' poles
You need to try to lay pipe in 'em
Oh, I forgot - punks don't like women
Got the nerve to try and diss somebody
At Jack the Rapper, you was hangin' 'round Luke's party
Now you're outta gas
With two motherfuckin' punk-haters on yo' ass
JT and Bustdown
Now let's see you ho n***as get tough now
Get the rubbers out your ass, dick-suckers
And fuck them pussy motherfuckers
[Chorus]
What about Kid N' Play?
(Wick-wick-wack!)

[Verse 3: Bustdown]
Now let me put my boy Kid in his place
With them wick-wack rhymes soundin' like Rob Base
Cause if I have to come tag that ass
I'mma max, wax, tax and drag that ass
I get sharp like a ice pick
I'm on a hype tip, hold the mic tight as a vice grip
You couldn't deal with the concept
I'm collected and calm, but on the mike I'm a bomb threat
So motherfuckers get real
I got a heart like gold and a dick like steel
You wanna diss, punk? Please
You got a flat top thicker than commodity cheese
Luke left it up to me and JT
To take it from the bottom to the T-O-P
I saw your second "House Party," it figures:
Two house parties for two house-ass n***as

[Outro: Luke]
Two house motherfuckin' n***as
Do y'all n***as know what a house n***a is?
A house n***a is a n***a who works in the house
Who cleans the master's ass, who cleans behind the master
Who wash the master's ass
Y'all house n***as. I'm a field n***as
We field n***as here in Miami
That's why y'all n***as can't understand us
Y'all fuck-n***as talkin' too much shit
Y'all n***as better watch what you sayin'
'Cause y'all fuck n***as, y'all don't know
Y'all get fucked up here. Yo, check this out
Miami is closed to y'all n***as. Y'all barred
Y'all can't come here no more, fuck-n***as
Y'all can't sell no more records here
And if all real n***as in the world is real like us
Y'all don't buy them fuck-n***as' shit no more
Cause they ain't shit, pussy punk, fuck n***as