(V1 - Billy Conahan)
Well can I kick it? Why yes I can.
Thrill seekers in the bleechers know that Will I Am!
I still damage MC's, they be feeling the pain
Every mic maybe different, but I kill'em the same

So I'mma ride to this rhythm of the beat, no brakes
What would be a track if it had no bass?
I try not to laugh in they're faces
Experience the glitch in the walls of the Matrix

Now, im trying to have me a Lucille Ball
Enough money to sit back in Royce Lou Rawls
KOP we the Kings of the Planet
Type a rapper to paint a picture, an' never touch a canvas

A man, god damn now why can I articulate
My soul is on the line can someone please reciprocate
Throw your hands high when I spit
Let the people know what I do is legit, so I kick it?

(Chorus)

(V2 - KB Jones)
Well can I kick it? Of course I can
It's KB Jones and the Kontraband
Billy C. hit me up and then
We took Quest on this rhythm just to rock this jam

You can ask my mother's womb when we kick right out
1987 was the year no doubt
We come with force, anybody stepping to me, you get tossed
Rap on a track, we straight fat like Rick Ross

We coming fresh like a cork
Fresher than embalming fluid at the morgue, we stay alive
Also relavent like the Tribe
The jazz, the funk, and hip hop is inside

Bye, bye, birdie gone fly
Get pissed at any click that think they all sly
Cause my family is as hard as stone
KB Jones prone to rock the microphone

You passing me by, you get a fat lip
Open cuts when I bust, every verse I spit
You passing me by, you get a fat lip
Open cuts when I bust, every verse I spit, so can I kick it?

(Chorus)