Intro/Chorus:
"Now I'm gonna show you how the East Coast rocks" ---> KRS-One
"Baby, baby, baby, baby, clap to this"
"It's like that y'all, you don't stop"
*repeat x2*
"Now I'm gonna show you how the East Coast rocks"
"??? are jumpin out of shoes and socks"
Verse One: Dray, Books
Higgity-hey hun, check out the way I friggity-freak the track, umm
I diggity-do-ray-me-fah-so nigga me go like that, umm
wit the Books, iggity-oops, I get more poopcrocks for jingle
I giggity-gots the rhymes like ??? ??? got the wrinkle
Check the real wild, my ill style gets worked out like Bundy
I piggity-pack the skits, so save the shit, I'll take you *?mundy?*
Yes it's I, the yippity zippity bad boy with papers
I higgity-hump and rump 'cause I'm rough like sandpaper
So pucker up and whistle, I blast just like a pistol
and sharp like a thumbtack and kick like ninjitsu
I sling raps for hand claps and toe taps, I'm bound, silly creep
I leave a rapper with a single bound
Yes I rips up the West, I'm the best, I'm no jokin
I run up shit creek and freak the backstroke
So Books freak it, provide the funk alligator
Yo I'm out but "I'LL BE BACK" like Schwarzenegger
Wiggity-wait a minute, giggity-guess who, well it's, umm, me
The bumble be boogity woogity book the loopy
double O-K-iggity S, I'm slick
I giggity-got more stiggity-styles than Moby got Dick
Aw shit, I'm swingin it from the East Coast, sure
I don't surf, but got more props than Pop Smurf
Who? Me, yep, look at the way I'm slingin it to ya poppy
I riggity rock the crowd at the Grand Ole Opi
But when speakin upon myself, I stays private like Benjamin
Honey, I'll knock the boots and if you're tough I'll knock the Timberland's
Ooooooh, miggity-major Rolex and tick tock
I'm runnin my tongue with the quickness now I'm back like Alfred Hitchcock
I'm shod-dy, I'm swingin it like a San Diego Padre
Brooklyn's in the house so motherfuck *?we go swavy?*
I don't need to diss ya but excuse me Mister
I'm sinkin ya battleships just ask Professor or the Skipper
and downnnnnnnn
Chorus
Interlude: (*Das EFX giving shoutouts to other East Coast rappers*)
Verse Two: Dray, Books
Yo I'm back, black, heavens-to-Betsy, time to get deuce
I take a bite outta crime, wash it down with some juice
I'm not the new kids, but I'm knockin blocks off, sonny
Yep I rock like the Stones 'cause I'm rollin in the money
So diggity-ask about, I know you digs me like a shovel
I kick straps for sport 'cause I'm short like Barney Rubble
Check the slang, boogity-bang, umm, I goes berserk
when I flex like Popeye, I fight like Cap' Kirk
So bozo, I'm knockin em out the box by the pair-em
High strung, my tongue got moves like Fred Astaire
Tally racker, I'm dapper, the rootin tootin rapper
I diggity-drops the funk so you can call me yippity-yapper
The slippery slick sister, stiggity-start the grammar
I'm comin like the Red Coats to toast an MC Hammer
So jumpin jahosa, that's yesiree
The Books-in-reverse kicks a verse......
......like, aah, BBD
I whips it, I smacks it, I flips it
with slick shit, when shit hits the fan, man, I slaps lips
like lipstick, I'm harder than a hard-on, never tend up like fiddles
I bust foots for kicks, eat up Trix and some Skittles
then I'll giggle, hee-hee-ha
Higgity-Hallelujah to-to-dabber-day I'll do ya
I'm the baddest, got more fans than Red Jarvis makes a cowboy
I skip, flip back to Dallas
He's the Don, have you seen my grey poupon?
Bust this, we roll more spliffs than Cheech and Chong
We can do this, I kiggity-can't lose like Martha Lewis
Get the picture? I rock upon misfa if I was you-is
Goddamn, I'm sittin on the bay by the dock
Smokin, strokin on my big fat cock
'cause spare you, breaker 1-9, what's ya handle?
'cause now I got the siggity-sock soup like Campbell's
and downnnnnnnnnnnn
Chorus: (x8)
"Now I'm gonna show you how the East Coast rocks" ---> KRS-One
"Baby, baby, baby, baby, clap to this"
"It's like that y'all, you don't stop"
New Lyrics 
