Them off of a fairy crossing the Hudson I bet its no cursing because you aint a thugs son But one of a Pastor churching you on manners well I'm still going bananners like Bananas in Pajamas You got no Jam plus cant jam us up on those phoney rhymes you hand us Understand us? No, neither no I drinking co-co in cabanas While I got a Carrabin coconut to stroke my, WHAT in Havana Am I doing wasting rhymes spewing these weak mutinies Mutants who refusing to go mute so you can swallow my puke A nuke is what I feel like right now, but unable to cut lose So whats the use of having to chose weather you abuse The rules and cuss your brains out in this insane bout But I know you aint ever got brains from a dame another mans pain his spouse