Yea (NYC) 1... 2... big ups to NYC And the whole country BIG MACK Uh Flava to buss it Style like this boy, haaa Check it It go a tisket a tasket, melt you like you plastic Non-stop rockin' put MC's in a casket Wake up 'cause its a brand new (what) World and I will continue (to what) To be the best at, hittin' where you rest at The mic let me test that, with honey-coated chit chat 'Cause if that, you think (Uhh, one, two) I walk around like my style don't stink And to all the broads I might take home, there's a limo outside with the driver on the phone Stand alone, live from NYC Got the lock on rap, and my rhymes are the key Next to me, none of y'all come close Rock til' broad daylight with the Mack as your host It go non-stop rockin' is the fat funk flav Boy I'll put you in the grave And I'mma do it with style... I drive Rolls and a Yacht off of flava I got Who boiling hot, sure shot, whether you like it or not And if you look my brother then you will see That Craig Mack's going down in history I got style what you want, style, what you need, and I got style What ya want and check it, check it, what ya need Well here comes da man with the mic I command Radio's black monster similiar to Rodan I groove from east to west, it ain't nuthin' Keep the funk locked like police hand cuffin' Top notch from here to Okinawa My belly all fat from MC's I devour Mayday, you better radio the tower 'Cause the plane you ridin' in just ran out of power Style My claim to fame, I was born for the mic I even use my real name Mack, Haaa, what it be like brother, as you could look around and see there ain't no other Sasquatch steppin', deadly weapon, rock da microphone since the age of 11 Like Andretti and my engine is revvin', brother you's about to die but I hope you go to heaven, rockin' you MC's times up My rhymes are water that will fit inside ya favorite cup Dante's peak of rap that's about to erupt You probably feel it in your gut but I'm a do it with style... I drive Rolls and a Yacht off of flava I got Who boiling hot, sure shot, whether you like it or not And if you look my brother then you will see That Craig Mack's going down in history I got style what you want, style, what you need, and I got style What ya want and check it, check it, what ya need I don't talk to MC's its a waste of my time I'd rather see em' on a fat ass rhyme It's like a cement truck the way I hit MC's on the mic talk that same old shit I'm debonair with flare, good friends of the mayor Funk coming down like Foxy Brown's hair For style like this you can't find everywhere I rock a stadium with hands in the air, from sea to shining sea I be, the Mackalicious funk flav rock the country Got more gators than Crocodile Dundee And you can see my name on the grand marquee It go funk original Mack the flava man And where your style go into the garbage can I be the president if I ran, but I choose to use the microphone to take command And I'm smooth as the Nile, with ya name on file Fly rhymes sayer ben this way since a child I'll be ya man on the FM dial The Mack will last a while, (word up) And I'mma do it with style... I drive Rolls and a Yacht off of flava I got Who boiling hot, sure shot, whether you like it or not And if you look my brother then you will see That Craig Mack's going down in history I got style... (what ya want... and I got style... It's what ya need... and) From the North To the South To the East To the West Guaranteed to rock you cause the Mack is the Best I got style I drive Rolls and a Yacht off of flava I got Who boiling hot, sure shot, whether you like it or not And if you look my brother then you will see That Craig Mack's going down in history I got style Its what you want and (Style) its what you need and (Style) its what you want and Cause its the Mackalicious Funk Flav It go, Style