Superstars

Ayo, first things first, it's time to shake ground in the eighth round

Box battle and break down

For the beak in the rhyme tone, jump in the cyclone

S-T-Y-L-E-S, yes, I know

The rap fiend vaccine, packed red beam

Put 'em up, what the fuck? You plucked a bad seed (Uh)

Off the wall, spitting the guerrilla tag team

What's up now? Duck down stuff that can't breathe

Yo, you know the routine, the team in effect, please

Don't step, you wanna feed one of my pet peeves? (Huh?)

The more beef the better, sound gay

But you all wanna sleep together? Okay

In the club, we don't sneak berettas

Why not? We got so much street credit, the fuckin' police let us

Now that's bullshit, cause we don't pack heat

So come and get your head cracked in a fat meet

Kick it

Moving, it's on now, making it punk loud

Shaking the buck wild, raping the punk style

Faking the funk, pal, duck, watch the pump

What now? Watch your battleship get sunk down

Click, pow, Nine, Thou

What? Just what I thought, what's up now?

Huh! Huh! Buck shots through the speaker

St-st-stabbing the track with both hands

I'm like huh! Huh! Buck shots through the speaker

St-st-stabbing the track with both hands

Hold it down, never give in

Styles, sever your limbs

However you want it to end

Dirty syringe, I'll murder them again

'97, serving them since

A third of your friends get knocked out: turbulent winds

Hopped out, what you want, beer, bourbon or gin?

I'm a fish, you can tell by the hundreds of fins, come on

Yo, I got a rock style

Pivot The Offspring and joke with 'em

With a distorted guitar string

Who am I? Russian Roulette, Camu Tao

Pushing a 'Vette hotter than Quebec in July

Area 51, stereo, rive gun live

Here we go, S-O-B, drop some

For the kids in the hall with the new block tape

Blast from both angles like Boondock Saints

So get up, get up and let the sound hit you

Snap, it's audio style picture, uh

Lot electrical

Kick it

Moving, it's on now, making it punk loud

Shaking the buck wild, raping the punk style

Faking the funk, pal, duck, watch the pump

What now? Watch your battleship get sunk down

Click, pow, Nine, Thou

What? Just what I thought, what's up now?

Huh! Huh! Buck shots through the speaker

St-st-stabbing the track with both hands

I'm like huh! Huh! Buck shots through the speaker

St-st-stabbing the track with both hands

Uh, who the hell wear splitting the belly up on a shellfish?

Shinning into your style, playing the fell blitz

Drilling your brain, like rap and video games

Feel the syringe for the styles sticking into your brain

Yo, what kind of shit is he on?

Really, his style's really beyond

Come on, punk, fuck off, you really gotta be gone

Ripped out of your brain

Pissed covered in shit to diss this S-O-B game

Son of a bitch, I'ma start killing for kicks

There ain't an Air Force 1 in the globe I can't fit, get it?

I'm sick with it, when I spit the venom

And it drips up in 'em, and it gets the women

In a quick dilemma, we can settle it now

And I don't know who did it, but they said it was Styles

Buck shots through the speaker

St-st-stabbing the track with both hands

Buck shots through the speaker

St-st-stabbing the track with both hands

Kick it

Moving, it's on now, making it punk loud

Shaking the bu-- wild, raping the punk style

Faking the funk, pal, duck, watch the pump

What now? Watch your battleship get sunk down

Click, pow, Nine, Thou

What? Just what I thought, what's up now?

Huh! Buck shots

Stab-stabbing the track with both hands

I'm like huh! Buck shots

Stab-stabbing the track with both hands

With both, with both, with both, with both, with both hands

Both hands, both hands, both hands, both hands