Some of the spellings of the references are not exact.
There are over 65 names within the lyrics.
See how many you can identify:

“See there’s one hundred and eighty seven reasons why to be a necrophiliac,
I’m in a cage where only non fiction could see me at,
thirstin’ to howl within the third hour of the night,
ducking vandal squads, sprayin’ hard & avoidin’ the search lite,
using the shades of Brooklyn,
to cloak from blue & white problems,
switch tips on krylons,
meanwhile I fondle ‘em, the click-clack’s, the knick knack,
finish the piece, step back,
mad skills, hispanic, urban thermodynamic, pitch black,
here comes the boys in blue, ’cause of mass influence,
they have intents to harm me,
they’re coming at me wit’ a killer army,
I’m pf cutting corners like tron, it’s on the go,
you know how my company flow to XL like chino,
I dipped through kalodge projects to the house of reps,
where n*ggaz like “‘ey L got skills,”
absolutely!
cops didn’t try to shoot me & I lost em,
but when they get back to the precinct, believe me,
it’s gonna cost em,
but I don’t give a f*ck like slim shady,
godfather don of organized confusion, hi tek,
with my illusion in this subculture,
I dwell amongst the sharks and vultures,
you don’t know the sciences of life’s trife,
the streets’ll coach ya,”

“caught in the middle of breakin’ & being mister live at block parties,
status of mister man,
I have a change of plans,
sprayin’ elements of style, so graffiti is survivin’,
TC5, TCK, NBK… y’all keep it live, sky’s the limit,
either that or nose dive,
it takes practice to make your J live,
so I shoot to swish in this business,
making records from the heart and soul,
when it’s crunch time,
all it’s gonna boil down to, are my words worth the punchline,
the gifted one,
like a gemini,
double trouble, triple metaphors,
I’m mister complex,
and always rock steady in my context,
I X men,
til they’re invisible,
like them scratch masters, supernatural,
resource disaster, black star in Bushwick,
I’m known to mop tops with natural elements,
the juggernaut that can’t be stopped,
last emperor from Socrates to Toynbee,
makin’ no dead presidents,
but don’t know label own me!
my cartel consists of shabbazz and beat nuts,
crash dummies & fifth platoon supplying the killer cuts,
I’m in a room with MF Doom,
doctor octagon & killer priest,
they’ll all have you underground,
restin’ in peace.”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ObMGLmssmUk