[Randy Newman - "Pretty Boy":]
Have we got a tough guy here?
Have we got a tough guy from the street?
Please don't hurt no one
With his cute little chicken shit boots on
And his cute little chicken shit hat
And his cute little chicken shit girlfriends
Ridin' along in back

[Atlas:]
I'm out in babylon bustin my gun, blastin yo ghetto
With my fake sound, fuckin for fun, killin children
On my way down, weighin a ton. On these streets I'm so
Heavy that I can't stand up. Feels like my neck is in a
Yoke tied to coke, cold flowin for the cash crop
Business as per usual. This shit ain't go'n ever stop
Bakin soda's open some niggas'll have to die
You fuckin with my money your mother might have to cry
Black tears. My will shakes spears and spear chuckers gonna
Kick the bucket if they think of fuckin with my duckets
Life is worth a diamond or maybe a private island
Whatever to keep me smilin and my woman lookin fly
Get you high and be your downfall, be your last call in the
Middle of the night for a pound of that white. I'll
Bring you that big fish. Close your eyes and make a wish
And taste the killer's kiss, sweet bavarian barium
Carry them to the other side as the crow flies
The temple virgin cries as I baptize her holy thighs
Water in your eyes, your nose is the desert floor
The oil slick snakes in my belly cry baby give me more
My yellow cake bake your city to a flake of snow