I see everybody rockin' the same old style 
And everyone's sportin' the same profile 
And all of y'all wearin' the same name brands 
I hear everybody jackin' these played out jams 
I won't reach for no gun  punk  I use my hands 
I rock mikes and roll bikes  I cross foriegn lands 
I made my bones out in zones where twilight be 
And every time I touch the mike it's Fright Night Part Three 
For every emcee that wannaa test and try 
In your custom made wears thinkin' you too fly 
Make it up in gold chains what you're lackin' for brains 
Its time to pull your mind through, scoop up your remains 
And finally lay to rest all the shit you stressed 
Of boastin' and braggin' about the toes you taggin' 
I'm knock, knock, knockin' on heavens door 
While every rapper that's simmed is pimped like a whore 
You see the talk is eighteen, three quarters past four 
When your doctor slaps my ass, hear the lion roar 
The record sales soared and the world got toured 
You say what happened to my band, I say I just got bored 
Now they call me Whitey Ford, and I praise the Lord 
Find me breakin' up your crews, catch me singin' the blues 
Strummin' and pickin' like I'm BB King 
It's Abdul Rakim, now watch me do my thing 
CHORUS 
Down, down, you go 
Down, down, so low 
Down, down, till you hit the floor 
Keep fallin' down, till you can't get down no more 
You go point blank range with the scope he's knockin' 
The Psycho might change but there ain't no stoppin' 
The mmon's on the rise when the sun start droppin' 
And y'all need to quit the bullshit that you be poppin' 
'Cause I've been hip hoppin' since BDP 
(???), it's Abdul Rakim 
And when referring to me you must respect the name 
Make a quick double take and double check your game 
'Cause you about to get dissed, I'm checkin' my list 
When I check it over twice it's like rollin' dice 
I hit four, five, six, I'm all up in your mix 
I rock good from Hollywood to the city of bricks 
And all these fake cats scream they're keepin' it real 
While you're makin' your deal we'll be breakin' the seal 
You be breakin' your vows like people worshippin' cows 
And then I hit ya with the who's, what's, where's and how's 
Like Vinny Barbarino, Matt Pachino 
I'm with my man Rino with the Brooklyn Lordz 
Crashin' the boards with my soul in a hole 
I take it back to the future from the days of old 
I'm too cold to hold, too hot not to burn ya 
Don't stick your nose in businessthat don't concern ya 
Might have to trip and flip like Ive Turner 
You too old for schoolin', boy, when I'm gonna learn ya 
CHORUS