Words by Enrique Maseda
Music by Frank Gallo
Arrangement by Frank Gallo

Figure’s you would turn your back on what’s real.
Don’t even think about the way the kids feel.
Try to rip me off,
but you won’t get that.
In fact,
you get shit when you turn around
and stab me in the back,
because I’ll pay you back,
and the respect you got,
well I’m taking it back.
You sold your soul
but I refuse.
You’ve played yourself
and I guess that means you lose.

Yeah, I ain’t no joke!
And your just lucky you ain’t got your legs broke!
So now you’re thowing me the diss?
Well, yo man, it goes like this.

Round two is payback in full effect
with a fistful of logic falling out of my mouth.
Something smells like shit
and you’re the source.
See, you’ve got no word
and I’ve got mad voice.
Yo, no one shows me how to do my thing,
least of all some chump who can’t sing.
Keep it real,
but what’s your intent?
Take some time,
and think about what you represent!

And I’m talking about
when you preach what the kids want to hear,
it’s just a lot of useless noise,
like the ringing in my ear.
So keep dragging my name
when I’m not around.
Yo, don’t you know that
"competition has it’s way
of bringing you down!"

And that’s Word.
It ain’t no joke.
Just keep talking that shit and one day you’re going to choke.
And I turned my back on you?
Oh well, then that’s what I’m gonna have to do.

Boo-fucking Hoo!