Alba s touto skladbou:
You Gotta Believe,
Marky Mark
Here's a brief verbal lyrical masterpiece,
Comin' direct from the Eastcoast beast, I release
And increase skills of rhyme flowin'
Reason for frontin' cos kids are not knowin'
Whats going on down, Mark got styles you never heard,
In Beantown I get more props than Larry Bird
Its open and closed caption rhyme and ruff raptioned
Kids they make a verdict but yet they never heard it on stage
I get pervert-ic on the mic, i get absurd-ic
So act like ya know the flavors when it's kickin' out
stickin' out like a sore thumb, you want some?
The double M got ya hangin' by a limb it gets grim
So never mistake me for him
While your strugglin' for them punks pape's you're scroungin'
Bes' believe that Marky Mark be loungin'
Chorus X2
Yo how ya livin' B?
Yo I'm loungin'
Yo how ya livin' Skee?
Yo I'm just loungin' B
Yo how ya livin' G?
I guess I'm just loungin' B
Yo how ya livin'
I'm loungin'
Donnie
Oh shit in comes the trasher
Rollin' it's raps new harasser, blaster
Comin' straight at ya to match ya
Weak crew 'cuz im a crew stopper
Americas brand new pro 92'rhyme dropper
Set 'em up I bet I wet 'em up in a warm up
M.C.s please hit the shelter storms up!
Respect, eject off my rep, rap culture back up
Donnie D's raisin' the track up
Ya 'bout to see a fist full of fury
Better pay the judge and jury or shit'll get blurry
I soak up the goods like hood
At night I live right, takin' airplane flight after flight
Major prop-age cause i pump pure hip-hop age
Booty kids cease on the stoppage; check it
Donnie D and M-A-R-K pounds
Lettin' off rounds when I lounge
Chorus X2
Marky Mark
Hey yo I run the hardcore streets
Flowin' raps over hardcore beats, the place heats
I hold my own when blows are thrown
Keep dippin' and stickin' deliverin' the ass kickin'
The hoops and haps for havin' ruff raps
I trust that you better come prone for combat
And I figure I'll come bigger than your best man
For 20 grand do him in wit' an ill plan
So watch where ya step it's trifle
Two barrels of a rifle, a straight up disciple
Comin' at ya, comin' at ya, comin' at ya ass and
Big checks im cashin', big heads im smashin'
So if frontin' ya can't do shit for me kid
So step before ya get swept
A hung like a hanger, big diesel wallbanger
I betcha while you're scroungin' Monk D be loungin'
