|
Yo, yeah, uhhhh |
|
Yo whattup? |
|
Yo, it's the lyrical lexicon |
|
The matador of metaphor |
|
Mista Keith |
|
MurrayChillin with my nigga |
|
Funk FlexWord up |
|
Got the Squadron, word up |
|
Word up, check it out, check |
|
Now, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo |
|
It's the return of the lyrical lunatic, still kickin rough shit |
|
What you say? |
|
I slap your stink ass, bitch |
|
I shape and build my skill like an architect |
|
Teflon style, rhymes be |
|
GortexI'm the highest exalted ruler on the mic with props |
|
All this over hippin the hop bullshit gon' stop |
|
It beez Keith not |
|
Bill, Murray not |
|
SweatYour politics be politically incorrect |
|
We keep it hot like sauce, flows be definite like well |
|
OF COURSEDef |
|
Squad cough a rough course |
|
You weak wack niggaz can't do me none |
|
Five hundred, radiant height |
|
I run with the sun |
|
Apparently, you need to check my pedigree |
|
And do the knowledge to the |
|
S-C-I-E-N- |
|
C-EFake ones fear it, real ones cheer it |
|
Cause they all feel me from the womb of the human spirit |
|
With logic and reasons |
|
I justify my means |
|
See you on the scene, fuck you up like |
|
Tyson did to |
|
Mitch Greene |
|
In fact black yeah it beez like that |
|
If you kill my dog |
|
I'm a slay your cat |
|
The supersonical genitonical astrochronical |
|
Splatter crews, all you hear is ahhs and oohs |
|
Time to face the music bring you down to |
|
Earth like |
|
Papa Smurf |
|
I'm World |
|
Wide like on the |
|
Web, in your turf |
|
With full fledged raps packed with anxiety attacks |
|
For those who thought |
|
I wouldn't be back |
|
With that bone chillin horror, killin all ongoin drama |
|
Save the rah rah for your mama |
|
Bragga-tocious, prone to static |
|
Come through the studio, wreck the mic by force of habit |
|
Tantalizing, make you feel good like crying |
|
I can't be dissed, so you can stop trying |
|
And Keith |
|
Murray will prevail |
|
And you can eat a shit sandwich and go to hell |