Just plug me in just like I was Eddie Harris 
You're eating crazy cheese like you'd think I'm from Paris 
You know I get fly you think I get high 
You know that I'm gone and I'm a tell you all why

So tell me who are you dissing maybe I'm missing 
The reason that I'm smiling or wilding so listen 
In my head I just want to take 'em down 
Imagination set loose and I'm gonna shake 'em down

Let it flow like a mud slide 
When I get on I like to ride and glide 
I've got depth of perception in my text y'all 
I get props at my mention 'cause I vex y'all

So what'cha what'cha what'cha want 
You're so funny with the money that you flaunt 
Where'd you get your information from, punk 
You think that you can front when revelation comes 


Yeah, you can't front on that 


Well they call me Mike D. the ever loving man 
I'm like Spoonie Gee I'm the metropolitician 
You scream and you holler about my Chevy Impala 
But the sweat is getting wet around the ring around your collar

But like a dream I'm flowing without no stopping 
Sweeter than a cherry pie with ready whip topping 
Goin' from mic to mic kickin' it wall to wall 
I'll be calling out you people like a casting call

It's wack when you're jacked in the back of a ride 
With your know with your flow when you're out getting by 
Believe me what you see is what you get 
And you see me coming off as you can bet

Well, I think I'm losing my mind this time 
This time I'm losing my mind, thats right
Said, I think I'm losing my mind this time 
This time I'm losing my mind


Yeah, you can't front on that 


But little do you know about something that I talk about 
I'm tired of driving it's due time that I walk about 
But in the meantime, I'm wise to the demise 
I've got eyes in the back of my head so I realize

Well I'm Dr. Spock I'm here to rock y'all 
I want you off the wall if you're playing this wall 
So what'cha what'cha what'cha want 
I said what'cha what'cha what'cha want

Y'all suckers write me checks and then they bounce 
So I reach into my pocket for the fresh amount 
See I'm the long leaner 
Victor the Cleaner 
I'm the illest motherfucker from here to Gardena

I'm as cool as a cucumber in a bowl of hot sauce 
You've got the rhyme and reason but no cause 
So if you're hot to trot you think you're slicker than grease 
I've got news for you crews you'll be sucking like a leach 

Yeah, you can't front on that 

So what'cha what'cha what'cha want (x4)