Aight
Alright, so, um
Turn my mic up
Turn my headphones up or somethin', I'm not
Can't hear right (can you hear yet? You can't hear yet?)
Nah, nah turn it up
(Yo)
Alright, Premier, so (yeah?)
So, you want me to just kick some shit?
(Yeah, just kick a freestyle, whatever, it don't matter)
Alright, bring me in
(Two, three)

Uh, hey, hot damn, ho, here I go again (ha)
You know who I be, and you know what you're in for (uh)
For your information
Me, I be comin' harder than ejaculation
Evacuation on the premises (I'm what?) I'm limitless
Run it to the limit, like Emmitt Smith (huh)
I'm listed in the Guinness's (for what?)
For in the Book of Genesis, it reads
In the beginning, God created Heaven, then He created me
So you see
It ain't no way on Earth you can see me
That's just how it B-E
You might as well drop that thought, 'cause it ain't goin' down, G (ha)
You're wishin', I'll leave you curled up in the fetal position
Impossible mission, you think you gettin' with Rage? Well, then listen
You're thinkin' the unthinkable, Rage is the unsinkable
Who can do it better? I got a art for linkin' letters
A diva run it like Gail Devers
Style so sick, you think I got swamp fever, ha
To all non-believers, y'all ain't believin'
I rocks hard when I'm stoned like Steven
The way I kill it, I'll leave you all in a process of grievin' (uh)
Leave you barely breathin' (uh)
Kicks it so hard, I knock out your teeth and leave you teethin'
Take aim and shoot, ha, knock you out your boots
I be the beginning of a New Testament like Matthew, Mark, and Luke
I turn the mother out in Levi Strauss
No doubt, make suckers do an about-face
Cut to the chase
They told me haste makes waste
And I'll waste you if you're hasty
Lyrically, it don't take much to make me (what)
Fly off the handle (huh)
Go off like Roman candles (uh-huh)
Scandalous not
Band you like wristwatch (uh)
Watch me clock a end, clock a grip
Watch me grip that microphone and cold rock that bitch
'Til your socks get hit
From the esophagus, my vocal range will expand (for what?)
And raise up and smack that ass like backhands
I got that shit that leave your whole section deaded
And if you got no common sense, you won't be resurrected
FedEx it, my successes didn't make it over night
But over mics for you it could be over in just one night
'Cause the R hit like Thundarr the Barbarian
Never in your life could you ever scar the Aquarian
Water Bearer, Great Granddaughter of Clara
Bring the terror to your dome as you get nearer to my throne
Them bones get crushed to dust
'Cause when it comes down to struttin' my stuff
It's necessary I get rough
'Cause I'm a lyrical genius, no other could swing this
Better than I (why?) 'Cause I'm one of the meanest
Not givin' a damn, statin' to all who I am (uh-huh)
No need to cram, 'cause now you fully understand
That Robin is rockin', causin' hippers to hoppin' (uh-huh)
Try to stop what I'm droppin', and a box you'll be popped in
Ah, think twice, save your life, give me the mic
I say it again, yo, it won't be nice
You think I'm huffin' and puffin' (uh-huh)
Think I'm blowin' and bluffin' (uh)
You hens can't begin to contend with Robin
Voice smooth, lyrics lovely
The hippest hip-hopper, got brothers tuggin' to hug me
Ah, d-

Aight, damn, aight, that's enough
You got a level now?
I'm shook 'cause I'ma be hoarse in a minute, come on
Let's, let's do the song, the song, okay
Premier, DJ Premier
Pr-Pr-Pr-Premier
Premi-Pr-Pr-Pr-Pr, aha
Wait, no, no-no-no-no-no-no, okay, okay
Go back, go back, go back

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, ENTERTAINMENT ONE U.S. LP, MUSIC SERVICES, INC., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Bronislaw Kaper, Christopher E. Martin, Quincy D. Jones, Robin Y. Allen