Artist: Five Fingers of Funk
Album:  Slap Me Five
Song:   Look At Where You At
                                      
            Look at where you at look look at where you're going
               Listen to the rhyme check the way I'm flowing
             Got to come correct when I select words for wreck
             Because respect means more than any bullshit check
                                      
               I clain that L.V.P. now knowledge that's on me
               Can't disrespect my O.G.s or roughneck reality
          See I've been down from the start to tear a sucker apart
       Fuck money guns and hoes just flow to show if you've got heart
                                      
                   And we can go rounds you low-down duck
        Got stuck with a beat-down in P-town cause your style sucks
                  You little mark yo you didn't expect it
      Like a pack of drunk drivers man some crew straight wrecked shit
                                      
        And ain't that 'bout a bitch? Got jacked in Oregon that's my
            Origin fuck around and now you'll never snore again
                Slept like a baby thinking you were all that
              Your'e all wack player now look at where you at
                                      
                            Look at where you at
                                      
           Stop and just listen 'cause ain't no time for riffing
           Just scoping and hoping I'll get open like a gift when
                 Everybody's watching M.C.s beging jocking
      Back in the day we used to play and punks got picked like cotton
                                      
           But look at where I'm at now I'm ripping up the track
          Got my mind on a mission now there ain't no turning back
              Peace to Mr. Sam-I-Am for putting me on the path
           Look into the rear-view mirror and today I just laugh
                                      
          Back then I used to stumble fumble on the mic or mumble
             But you still put me on so now I try to be humble
            Went to Mecca to get my step correct and do my part
              Now it's Mecca on my mind and Mecca in my heart
                                      
             Still I depart from the past last night went fast
         Pete Miser is what I'm known as so now I watch my own ass
                Want to be all that without holding a strap
              Money grip don't trip just look at where you at
                                      
             -It ain't where you're from it's where you're at-
                                      
   I'm setting it off you're lost so stop and clock your plotted position
    Boy you put upon wax a track that lacks any facts what I mean you're
                                  slipping
     When I'm hitting I'm kicking the thick non-fiction upon my nation
   Understanding the place I'm facing through the knowledge of foundation
                                      
    Case in point the path I traveled unraveled as each step had landed
        Took a look at now for known-how beat my brow where demanded
        Know I'm branded like cattle as the one in battle to make it
          Not a snake kid or a viper or a diaper I don't take shit
                                      
       From no-one throw one out to show the clout that I'm attaining
      Rough like leather and like Portland weather better bet I'll be
                                  reigning
     With an iron fist I dissed you mister pissed you off a little bit
    But the hits that I swung will keep you strung out like a fiddle now
                                    sit
                                      
           Your ass down 'cause the last clown that tried to step
                Got swept like a dustpan man you understand?
       A fan of no one 'cause I know none that can bust a better rap
        I'm from the West Coast West Coast now look at where you at