Yo, check the mic, one two, is this thing on?

Aight, word up.

Peace to the gods and the earth, we gathered here tonight,

For this Birthday, everything is lookin' tight.

But yo, I gotta drop the truth, the real deal Holyfield,

About my main man, the legend, who stands right here revealed.

Mike, you know the flavor, you got the juice and the clout,

But let's talk about these Never returns borrowed items, thinks he's a DJ but only plays one song, always talks about his gym routine that you be rockin' out!

You stay frontin' like a G, but your flow is kinda weak,

Like a cassette tape chewed up, the sound is kinda squeak.

You're buggin' out, fam, you know I'm tellin' no lie,

You're more vanilla ice than Wu-Tang, and that's word to the sky!

But we still love ya, kid, you're the illest in the place,

Now throw your hands in the air and give me some space!

Word. Peace out.