Jenna von Oÿ (“Six LeMeure”)

A’ight Wu-Tang, check my verbal tricks.
Y’all can count to five? Now add one: Six.

Heard me talk fast on the show,
That wasn’t nuthin’.
Make heads spin with my quickness,
Bitin’ on my styles like a muffin.

Killa Bees on the prowl,
Please, these rhymes are Raid.
My man J-Law, step to the mic—
Hear that “Whoa!” and be afraid.
 

Joey Lawrence (“Joey Russo”)

When J’s on the mic better believe I’m-a come spit it.
On the show I played dumb like a hapless illiterate,
But in real life I’m smart, erudite, and articulate.
“Nothin’ My Love Can’t Fix”? It was a hit.

Li’l Joey and Nell Carter rocked Gimme a Break,
But these days my peeps call me Joseph cuz I’m biblical with the raps I make.
Keep it real in ought-six and I’m still bankin’ cash.
Wu-Tang in the house? Put you out with the trash.
 

Ted Wass (“Nick Russo”)

Big Daddy Russo in the place to be (be).
If my lyrics sound old school it’s because I’m fifty-three (three).
Raised three kids on a show on NBC.
Certified Zen master, from feng shui to tai-chi.

Wu-Tang suckaz think they can battle with me (me).
Don’t they know kung-fu ain’t got nuthin’ on qi (qi)?
I got news for you G, and I’ll give it to you free:
Bust you up in slow-motion and burn your ass the DVD.
 

Michael Stoyanov (“Anthony Russo”)

Back in the day, I played a pipe-hittin’ bandit.
Smoked so much rock didn’t know my sis from my granddad.
Ended up back home cuz that’s where my ass landed.
Went straight like a razor blade, caught on camera like candid.

So dear Cappadonna and Raekwon the Chef,
To GZA and RZA and Ghostface and Meth,
And the rest of the crew whose names I forget,
That shit was made-up, but I’m real—Mike Stoyanov, the best!
 

Mayim Bialik (“Blossom Russo”)

Blossom was my name and Blossom was my show.
Back in the days of the Dawg Pound on Arsenio.
(“These people over here? They found a Fly Girl in their soup.”
With a “Whoop, whoop, whoop, whoop,” and a “whoop, whoop, whoop!”)

Wore those funky hats cuz that’s how I liked to rock it,
Didn’t need no Wu-Wear, jeans with 12-inch pockets.
Now wait a minute. Check yourselves for a sec.
Gazillionaires or whatever but you ain’t got my respect.

Used to jack Benzes but now y’all be dealin’ denim?
Rollin’ with Jarmusch and claimin’ 5 Deadly Venoms?
Whaddup RZA? I want to love you, Rakeem,
Even though you moved underground after failing mainstream.

Thirty-six chambers of shame: choose one.
Now sit down and let’s talk it out, it’ll be fun.
Don’t hide your feelings, you know you wanna have a good time.
Cuz in my opinionation, the sun is gonna surely shine.