J. Gruppo on the mic and he rocks it like Sir Vanderaerden
on the tops or in the drops he ain’t never gots to axe your pardon
for craftin lyrics so stone cold they make Eskimos say ‘brrr’
cold stone is the name of his game, killin it like Ekimov on the Kapelmuur

his shout-out to the Atomic crew was just in time for New Year’s
throwin out lines ‘bout baggin a few betties between beers
some a his rhymes nearly brought this poser-exposer to tears
reclaimin the Dropouts name and quellin my fixed-gear fears

on the road or on the track, he keepin it real and for that props back
to the man who flatters his rivals with flowers
after dropping they a$$es with CERA-free powers
he’ll beat you to Roubaix and the velodrome showers
(while suckas still fightin the pavé for hours)

a toast to our friend, he’s a cyberspace Flandrien
if his last name was Schleck his first would be Andy, and
his team car would be an Olds 98 and not some cheap Vanagon
he’ll lap your pursuit and then steal your nanny, man

he musta caught me in a good mood, you see?
‘cause there’s nothin worse than upsettin Ice y
in ’09 there’s no tellin what we’ll see
when the Battle unleashes on our man Johnny G…