Songtexte: Phife Dawg. Ventilation: Da LP. Ventilation.

[Intro]
Say you wanna be a fly emcee (Uh-huh)
But can you really fuck with Phife Diggy (Hell no)
You claim about how you get much bank
But Money can you fuck with Mutt Ranks
I be the emcee with the illest styles
Cause on the microphone I get buckwild
Haha! Yeah, fuck that
Bassline, yo hit me

[Verse One]
Check it, I'm shittin' on rappers this year
Who the fuck claims they want some of this here (I dunno)
Go ahead, show your face, shall I crush your shit now
Say a smidgeon of a word and I bust your shit down
How dare you stand in my face with that old nonsense
Toys 'R' Us lyrics, yo fuck that (?) concept
I back-smack niggas that claim to be the hardest
Say the word battle and I'll gladly do the honors
Now for the past, I guess you heard me on some wild shit
Never had a chance to do some wild out shit
B&S and folks I know were on some bitch-like shit
So debt to label, on top of that, shady cats is the management
I made a vow, no more gettin' penetrated
Fuck that old happy shit, peep the style that's demonstrated
Right here nigga, let's just be real nigga
I know cats be actin' funny, you can go figure
What the fuck, you thought the Diggy was a pussy nigga
Or better yet (What!) I ain't have it in me nigga
Man please, I wax emcees of all types and variations
While you jerk artists and put out bogus compilations
When shit hit the fan, niggas go on vacation
Or wanna join the Nation [Q-Tip:] "Phifey why's you hatin'"
Yo fuck the clowns Frank, yo peep the bullshit they makin'
They fakin', look at all the talent they wastin'
Now every artist on the roster, you know they straight fuckin' prankin'
No more of that will Phife be takin', it's money time!
Like Heather B I'm takin' mine, and that's my word
I'm more anxious than Ginuwine, I straight get on some
M.O.P meanin' blast a nine, Once again for two-thou
Mutty ain't refined, while two of our fakers from beyond
The motherfuckin' sign, and to whom it may concern
Kiss my never-mind, you couldn't hear the first time?
Well nigga press rewind, the fuck y'all thought?
Diggy Dawg wouldn't get his shine, yo let me find out they corny
You know that ass is mine, and if you'd like to see me
I ain't too hard to find, just e-mail me at
(Three W dot kiss my behind and suck my
Testes dot com) And I'll gladly show you maggots
Why you laid the bomb, it's true Phife, yo fuck that
Money I'm just gettin' warm, to whom it may concern FUCK THAT!
It's on! uh uh it's on! uh uh
It's on! it's on! uh uh it's on!

[Chorus x2]
It's ventilation! I gotta air some things out
I know a few understand what I'm talkin' about
Hold that! Take that with you! Take that with you! Hold that!
Hold that! Take that with you! Take that with you! Hold that!

[Verse Two]
Phife Diggy got these rappers feelin' uneasy
Physically and mentally they say they wanna emcee, but it ain't meant to be
I discredit all jerks, full force
'Til they discover who's the man, which leads me to this next discourse
I'm so disquited with hiphop, cause yo it's disgraceful
Disinfect all of you roaches, clean 'em up, Lord thank you
What we need is discipline, all of these rappers don't trifle
Sould I just join. I can't do that cause I'm a hiphop disciple
Standin' next to Bambataa, holdin' fort is how we do
Those who disrespect the culture, (What!) we seein' you
Disfigure you! (Disfigure you!) Discard you! (Discard you!)
These shiney emcees know the flavor, they get disfavored
So from now on my brethren use your discretion
Don't fuck yourself and if you do I hope your usin' protection
How many you murdered on your album, or is that just for attention?
These labels got y'all like Muppets so I'ma play Jimmy Henson
Mutt Dawg for two-thou, makin' moves like George Jetson
See every dog has his day, so this year no half-steppin'
To hear Phife Diggy on the mic, yes sir it's such a blessin'
Now get the fuck out my session, you punk bitch!

[Chorus x2]