[Verse 1]
Yo... now dig it...
I bust flows to make you hoes quit rappin'
How many n***as in the crowd want to see it happen
People be acting like they got something to prove
Picking up the mic, talking all foul and rude
About who they shot and all the rocks they sold
It's a mystery to me how that bullshit went Gold
And all I hear's keep it real and represent
N***a, fuck that shit, 'cause I'm never hesitant
I'm from the old school, '85 get live
Peace to the true and all the fake n***as die
You must be from Mars 'cause I guess you never heard
That I blaze crews like a fat bag of herb
Word to my ill peeps in the streets
Flows so rugged they fucking crack the concrete
So speak up now or forever hold your peace
The new millennium, that bullshit is 'bout to cease
Each and every one of you got a job to do
Gotta stay real and keep yo' shit true
If you want it, punk – you better bring your whole crew
Your shit stink like that damn doo-doo on your shoe
Microphone check, one two, one two
Breaker breaker one nine, Ronnie Cash coming through
With that ill flow, you better chill 'fore I crush you
Don't pack gats but I got n***as that'll bust you
[Hook]
Microphone master, he's the super beat maker
We get def as the the others get faker
I'm the microphone master, he's the super beat maker
We get def as the the others get faker

[Verse 2]
I herd your crew like cattle and cook your ass like a steak
Your flows got less feeling, that's why my shit taste great
('Cause I'm that real deal) 'Cause I'm the real n***a that you hate to see
Phat Kat coming straight from the 313
With that n***a Jay Dee, runnin' shit behind the boards (That's right)
Don't fuck with no mics with no long-ass cords
Because, man – my shit be hitting, my flows is too drastic
You bony phoney emcees get ripped like plastic
From my Grenadier, Swisher blunt or a Phillie
N***as be mad because they hoes say I'm silly
But really, what's real in this field called rap?
All you wannabe gun slingers who never bust a cap
Your time's expired – n***a, in the game you a liar
Ain't gon' kick dirt on a motherfucking camp fire
Your style is filth, you gone without a trace
Won't talk behind your back, I'll tell you straight to your face

[Hook]
I'm the microphone master, he's the super beat maker
We get def as the the others get faker
I'm the microphone master, he's the super beat maker
We get def as the the others get faker
[Outro]
He's the... beat maker
We get def... as the others get faker
I'm the... microphone master, he's the... beat maker
We get def as the the others get faker
Microphone master, he's the beat maker
[looped until fade out] "He's the beat maker" "He's the beat maker"...