{Intro:}
Uh Mr. Smith, Mr Smith, Mr Smith
Uh Mr Smith, it´s the bomb y´knowhutI´msayin? Mr Smith
Mr Smith, word up kid, yeah Mr Smith, check it out

{Verse 1:}
I´m goin to the top leavin smoke in my trail
Bitch ass gangstas put that ass on sale
And even if I´m twice as expensive as the rest
when I go for dolo you ain´t checkin for nuttin less
My strategy is splittin brain cavity´s
It´s ya majesty bringin you a tragedy
Yeah, on the butcher block slice her like a ox
When it´s time to get down, nigga I jam like a Glock
I bust thru all types of red tape and sue papes
Niggas come old but they always wanna infiltrate
I´m cuttin snakes thru the belly witta icepick
and scoopin hotties, a strong aisle of flip trips
It´s the rebirth of murkin niggas once again
I drain with ink and put your blood in my pen
I´m breakin ribs til somethin gives
A nigga got to live and Mr Smith is power god, kid

{Chorus: x3}
Mr Smith you got the shit sewed up
Work ya thang baby, show em how to blow up

{Verse 2:}
What? You wanna do what? You lack the vitality
originality, so face reality
I´m on some ole wild shit, ya niggas can´t get wit
Matter of fact, mornin yawn and suck a dick
Nah hold up, the fuck is goin on?
All these cartoon character MC´s gettin airborne
Takin off like a hot air balloon
Goin up up up, oh no kaboom
Bring your heroes down to ground zero
Shotty grippin ya grill like Pesci and DeNiro
I´m on some [BLANK] shit, throats is gettin shit
Scoopedin New Jacks and kick em in the *?fire bit?*
Tell them ole Jap niggas they need to go and stick it
cos when it comes to this rap shit I´m mad wicked
The grand sire bringin flavour to the whole game
Mr Smith is my motherfuckin name

{Chorus}

To the bridge

{Bridge:}
Mr Smith (I was a mack since birth)
Talkin bout Mr Smith (I invented the taadow!) Uh
Talkin bout Mr Smith
Talkin bout Mr Smith
Talkin bout

{Verse 3:}
Time´s up, your rhyme´s up, mix the lines up
I´m about to blow the spot up with that divine touch
I got the magnetic energetic lyrical calasthetic
Ya better call a medic cos ya look pathetic
Guan boy it´s the champion Mr Smith
Your niggas couldn´t raise up with a forklift
Cocked the hammer, peep out the grammar
It´s hard like Bacardi and hot like a house party
All your so-called flavour niggas is deaded
Your next step is where ya headed so don´t forget it
Your rhymes is beat, your steelo´s scarred to scrape
When you scream you sound muddy like a bled teeth
I get´cha open like f-lay, ´tack you when I spray
Lethal compositions around your way
I´m the maniacal murderous Mr James Smith
Rippin ya ass out the frame with my verbal gift

{Chorus to fade}