[Verse One] [Bishop Lamont]:
It's the sun toucher
Saliva's live as a lava rupture
Bison I'll psycho crush ya
Mind sight illuminate the night like Luxor
Supreme being
Meanin' I'm Elohimin'
I may knock your Reebok but I'll stop and pop and leave you bleedin'
We live from that zone where only real niggas roam
I'll take a lot of shots of Henny while creatin' a new poem
Literary, visionary, legendary, already
Prisoner of my pen I need mo' beats up in my commissary
Attempt a jail break, only if my verse is great
Receipt a couple of mo' times to make the flow is great
Then I'm out
Grab my hoodie grab my gat
For any new Zimmerman's I'm first to gun clap
Yeah, I'm armed and dangerous, a rebel rap terrorist
My middle finger linger for those that get to see us perish
From L.A. ghettos to every ghetto in the world
The last will be first, stay strong that's my word
We never stop, that's the gift that God gave us
Voice of Paul Robeson, vision like Ozzy Davis
The solar in Gaboze for these demons and you haters
My knuckle game will lean ya, rearrange your whole demeanor
My hooks is way cold but my kicks is even meaner
[Chaundon]:
Knotty blows will have your internal bleedin' flowin' like Katrina
I'm the product of Cedrick and Sena, bonafide leader
Lines are legendary like the uniform on Derek Jeter
Punchlines so brolic gotta rock a wife beater
Bitches eatin' out the palm of my hand, the bird feeder
I don't ride with the nina while I'm smokin' on Keisha
Cause after Nina ride me I'll be pokin' on Keisha
Well known speaker got me bumpin' through your speakers
I have been the One before Kris became The Teacher
Runnin' the game while you chillin' in the bleachers
This year, triplin' the prices on the features
The avant garde where ever my voice reaches
Your style ain't impregnable, inevitable breaches
You poor rappers are so facetious
But seriously, sweeter than them George peaches
Cut from a cloth who practice what he preaches
Suited up for war and stormin' all your beaches
Your movement is comin' to a halt, tires screechin'
'Bout time you all retire, you weak bitches
[Big Pooh]:
You world is an oyster, ladies love pearls
Got the Mausberg on deck in case I have a little girl
I'm part analytical, learnin' to think critical
Either leave a mark or the people won't remember you
The Dream didn't die with Martin Luther or Malcolm by the hands of they shooters
What we lost were recruiters for the revolution
All we left with is pollution
Contribute to the problem well let's talk about solutions
Niggas gettin' lost in my music
Startin' to think higher for success, I aspire
Said they wanted dope, I confessed as the supplier
This is king's court I address you as a squire
The better that you get the more these niggas wanna try ya
Keep talkin' shit, I'mma pass right by ya
I write like James Booker play piano in the N.O
Police wanna charge me for assaultin' instrumentals
I'm guilty
[Joe Scudda]:
Yo
Right hand in the air, left hand on that book
Two fingers in the kitty, damn, that's all it took
They callin' me a beast, well grab me by the collar
Salty about a verse, but here dogs holla
Go ahead and get your bark on
Good on any corner I feel like I wanna park on
Hop out, post up with an old timer
Back room evangelist, part time moon shiner
He keeps a .45 tucked
Said, "Plots moves let fools worry 'bout luck
I offer this advice when you down to pay the price
Stick 'em for every cent so you don't have to pay 'em twice."
Told him, "Thanks." Tipped hat and strolled off
Nikita Koloff
Russian sicko that bottle of George Dickle you squares bound to get throwed off
I'm the alarm if you dosed off
Got bowling ball sized nuts and not an ounce worth of fucks
To be given, your agenda is hidden
Pay it no attention
They pokin' at my cage tryin' to get a mention
Don't get your head bit off
I'm a monster
[Bishop talking]:
God damn. Can I say something? Somethin' honest? We hard than a motherfucker! Hahahah. Anyway, it's your boy, Bishop Lamont. Woogie, don't stop the record yet, I want all the MC's out there to go for theirs. So just let the beat rock. All my MC's go for yours! Off the top, no writtens. Nigga
It's the sun toucher
Saliva's live as a lava rupture
Bison I'll psycho crush ya
Mind sight illuminate the night like Luxor
Supreme being
Meanin' I'm Elohimin'
I may knock your Reebok but I'll stop and pop and leave you bleedin'
We live from that zone where only real niggas roam
I'll take a lot of shots of Henny while creatin' a new poem
Literary, visionary, legendary, already
Prisoner of my pen I need mo' beats up in my commissary
Attempt a jail break, only if my verse is great
Receipt a couple of mo' times to make the flow is great
Then I'm out
Grab my hoodie grab my gat
For any new Zimmerman's I'm first to gun clap
Yeah, I'm armed and dangerous, a rebel rap terrorist
My middle finger linger for those that get to see us perish
From L.A. ghettos to every ghetto in the world
The last will be first, stay strong that's my word
We never stop, that's the gift that God gave us
Voice of Paul Robeson, vision like Ozzy Davis
The solar in Gaboze for these demons and you haters
My knuckle game will lean ya, rearrange your whole demeanor
My hooks is way cold but my kicks is even meaner
[Chaundon]:
Knotty blows will have your internal bleedin' flowin' like Katrina
I'm the product of Cedrick and Sena, bonafide leader
Lines are legendary like the uniform on Derek Jeter
Punchlines so brolic gotta rock a wife beater
Bitches eatin' out the palm of my hand, the bird feeder
I don't ride with the nina while I'm smokin' on Keisha
Cause after Nina ride me I'll be pokin' on Keisha
Well known speaker got me bumpin' through your speakers
I have been the One before Kris became The Teacher
Runnin' the game while you chillin' in the bleachers
This year, triplin' the prices on the features
The avant garde where ever my voice reaches
Your style ain't impregnable, inevitable breaches
You poor rappers are so facetious
But seriously, sweeter than them George peaches
Cut from a cloth who practice what he preaches
Suited up for war and stormin' all your beaches
Your movement is comin' to a halt, tires screechin'
'Bout time you all retire, you weak bitches
[Big Pooh]:
You world is an oyster, ladies love pearls
Got the Mausberg on deck in case I have a little girl
I'm part analytical, learnin' to think critical
Either leave a mark or the people won't remember you
The Dream didn't die with Martin Luther or Malcolm by the hands of they shooters
What we lost were recruiters for the revolution
All we left with is pollution
Contribute to the problem well let's talk about solutions
Niggas gettin' lost in my music
Startin' to think higher for success, I aspire
Said they wanted dope, I confessed as the supplier
This is king's court I address you as a squire
The better that you get the more these niggas wanna try ya
Keep talkin' shit, I'mma pass right by ya
I write like James Booker play piano in the N.O
Police wanna charge me for assaultin' instrumentals
I'm guilty
[Joe Scudda]:
Yo
Right hand in the air, left hand on that book
Two fingers in the kitty, damn, that's all it took
They callin' me a beast, well grab me by the collar
Salty about a verse, but here dogs holla
Go ahead and get your bark on
Good on any corner I feel like I wanna park on
Hop out, post up with an old timer
Back room evangelist, part time moon shiner
He keeps a .45 tucked
Said, "Plots moves let fools worry 'bout luck
I offer this advice when you down to pay the price
Stick 'em for every cent so you don't have to pay 'em twice."
Told him, "Thanks." Tipped hat and strolled off
Nikita Koloff
Russian sicko that bottle of George Dickle you squares bound to get throwed off
I'm the alarm if you dosed off
Got bowling ball sized nuts and not an ounce worth of fucks
To be given, your agenda is hidden
Pay it no attention
They pokin' at my cage tryin' to get a mention
Don't get your head bit off
I'm a monster
[Bishop talking]:
God damn. Can I say something? Somethin' honest? We hard than a motherfucker! Hahahah. Anyway, it's your boy, Bishop Lamont. Woogie, don't stop the record yet, I want all the MC's out there to go for theirs. So just let the beat rock. All my MC's go for yours! Off the top, no writtens. Nigga
( Bishop Lamont )
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