| Song | 120 Seconds |
| Artist | Freestyle Fellowship |
| Album | To Whom It May Concern... |
| 作词 : Hayes, Sumbi | |
| Yo Double-A | |
| I blaze this energizer let's see you pull this one... | |
| [Aceyalone:] | |
| Happy birthday to me | |
| Happy earth day to we | |
| I just turned a hundred and seventy five million | |
| Two hundred and seventy three | |
| And I'm at my peak | |
| Our pick of the week | |
| Straight tweaked with a godly type mystique | |
| ???? Spock, nanou nanou ??? | |
| Abort, distortion report on which sort | |
| A quick court, support, cut short | |
| Time warp, interplanetary movement | |
| I'll say, foul play, hey | |
| Which way does Willy Wonka stay? | |
| We came to see the chocolate sway | |
| Happy birthday to me, to me | |
| Hip hip hooray to me, to me | |
| Synthetic or prototype | |
| Genetical photocopy | |
| Xerox and medical mocks to breakthrough | |
| Shocks and shakes you | |
| As Acey takes you | |
| Through lyrical masochism | |
| And as I blast the last to give 'em | |
| Dissect, insect, inflict, whoa | |
| Destination one-two-oh | |
| Ohhhh | |
| 'One hundred and twenty seconds until you die' | |
| When I die, bury me under the gravel | |
| Travel fifty feet down, step out and pack me in | |
| I acknowledged(?_ I won't be back again | |
| Now I'm a entity, ex-humanity within | |
| Earthly vanities, sunshine and the wind | |
| I suppose, ambrose'll rose your soul | |
| To give you immortality and infinity skin | |
| But you're immortal close, you froze | |
| (ah.. he froze) | |
| Now your takin' in a free fall in the end | |
| Every draft, breeze, trickle of water, a sound wave | |
| In your perimeter is similar | |
| And behaves as a test to manifest life forms | |
| It forms a warm blunted | |
| Heavily budded individual | |
| In the visual eye | |
| Cut it, gut it, fry | |
| I am invisible so is it impossible to cry? | |
| Nope, soak my pillow case | |
| I wrote a little taste | |
| I'm hopin' the middle breaks the lies | |
| My objective remains at one with the stainless steel object | |
| Still feels the pain | |
| Flagrant, nefarious | |
| Fragrence of various ages | |
| And chemical compounds compounded | |
| A bouquet, a readily picked array | |
| Of dandelions, roses, pointset-i-as | |
| Gold marigolds in a vase that's passed to monks | |
| And kindred, intended, descended | |
| And suspended in mid-air | |
| Match amended and I ended on a bad note | |
| Put salt in the open wound and I broke |
| zuò cí : Hayes, Sumbi | |
| Yo DoubleA | |
| I blaze this energizer let' s see you pull this one... | |
| Aceyalone: | |
| Happy birthday to me | |
| Happy earth day to we | |
| I just turned a hundred and seventy five million | |
| Two hundred and seventy three | |
| And I' m at my peak | |
| Our pick of the week | |
| Straight tweaked with a godly type mystique | |
| ???? Spock, nanou nanou nbsp??? | |
| Abort, distortion report on which sort | |
| A quick court, support, cut short | |
| Time warp, interplanetary movement | |
| I' ll say, foul play, hey | |
| Which way does Willy Wonka stay? | |
| We came to see the chocolate sway | |
| Happy birthday to me, to me | |
| Hip hip hooray to me, to me | |
| Synthetic or prototype | |
| Genetical photocopy | |
| Xerox and medical mocks to breakthrough | |
| Shocks and shakes you | |
| As Acey takes you | |
| Through lyrical masochism | |
| And as I blast the last to give ' em | |
| Dissect, insect, inflict, whoa | |
| Destination onetwooh | |
| Ohhhh | |
| ' One hundred and twenty seconds until you die' | |
| When I die, bury me under the gravel | |
| Travel fifty feet down, step out and pack me in | |
| I acknowledged? _ I won' t be back again | |
| Now I' m a entity, exhumanity within | |
| Earthly vanities, sunshine and the wind | |
| I suppose, ambrose' ll rose your soul | |
| To give you immortality and infinity skin | |
| But you' re immortal close, you froze | |
| ah.. he froze | |
| Now your takin' in a free fall in the end | |
| Every draft, breeze, trickle of water, a sound wave | |
| In your perimeter is similar | |
| And behaves as a test to manifest life forms | |
| It forms a warm blunted | |
| Heavily budded individual | |
| In the visual eye | |
| Cut it, gut it, fry | |
| I am invisible so is it impossible to cry? | |
| Nope, soak my pillow case | |
| I wrote a little taste | |
| I' m hopin' the middle breaks the lies | |
| My objective remains at one with the stainless steel object | |
| Still feels the pain | |
| Flagrant, nefarious | |
| Fragrence of various ages | |
| And chemical compounds compounded | |
| A bouquet, a readily picked array | |
| Of dandelions, roses, pointsetias | |
| Gold marigolds in a vase that' s passed to monks | |
| And kindred, intended, descended | |
| And suspended in midair | |
| Match amended and I ended on a bad note | |
| Put salt in the open wound and I broke |