Rugged like Rwanda  don't wind up far or get chopped up
 Quick to rush the spot like baby urine get mopped up
 Tags that spray your hall with rap aerosol
 Organized graffiti that jizzin' can't control
 Or level with the devil racing uptown first to Fort Apache
 I'm much too much for any demon style to master me
 From the thought's next bridge to the hell's gate  lyrically
 detonating
 Sparking M-80's and bottle rockets it's a nigga chaser
 Downtown graffiti deface a heroin debaser
 Open up your eyes and clean out your nature
 Wide open like the grand canyon
 Emcees couldn't hang if they was lynched by the Grand Dragon
 Searching for my style like Job-Corps
 Coming home on work release shoplifting at the rap store
 But sabotaging me ain't easy
 I'm crooked like Nathan Wick starring as Cochese
 With a big baseball bat you get robbed like DeNiro
 A sandwich still ain't nothing but a hero
 Just a small sample of the abstract
 When the rhyme gets crazy hot and lyrics don't know how to act
 Whether shooting joints or wax
 I go all out and attack crabs and herbs that's crazy wack
 We all can't be pimps, and we all can't rap
 You got to get your dollars on cause it's on like that
 Here's what I want you to do
 Niggas with the green axe and burgundy Forerunner, inhuman like Blade
 Runner
 When I'm rhyming all summer just listen to the drummer
 Transistor blister feedback freak the impeders
 Funk flow we expose frequencies in sequence
 Napalm gets dropped long range like fiber optics
 Check the rhyme activity your skills is microscopic
 Peace to my crew and my nigga El-P
 Who's here to spark it causing all these crabs to flee
 Verse Two: El-P
 Check it and I inflict it quattro nine fifty lungs misty
 Color me Maxmillian cause I'm that crazy robot
 Teetering on the edge of outer space
 Spitting buckshots till black holes surround me, you found me
 As far as I'm concerned I've got your ashes in an urn
 Big up, the temperamental hold none barred kid
 What's your confunction? Tracks is type dusty
 Drinking water out the well of life and I'mma piss it back rusty
 Flesh and phonics, you're god damned right
 I'm on 'em like they're on pacemakers hooked up to clappers
 Clap on, welcome to my free-form jubilee, look at me
 The witness to the shit you wanna be
 DBA lyrical P known as a simp and I'm a sycophant
 Feeding on fats passed and dipped
 In and out of my invisible state
 Forerunner rep tyrannical
 Wrecks like tecs bust mechanical
 Rusty goner weasel painting beats on an easel
 Shoot a head up, what bitch you're boxing shadows
 Look out my way you pull your breath out to battle
 Breaking your double helix, and now the shit is single
 Not mono, I burn the needle out your vinyl
 El-P the third gunner on the grassy knoll
 Stroll, keep the seventh seal of heaven in my pocket
 You're faggot like sprockets, motherfuck the Houston Rockets
 I'm so sick of recycled metaphors
 Bet but I'd fuck Laura Ingalls only when she's done with her chores
 Got rappers tip toeing on a Highway to Heaven
 Got manners like Bruce Banner when he's stressed
 I'm sick of your corny beats and your crowd-involved hooks
 Cause I'm a thinker
 Evil anus letting off stinkers
 BJ Eight steps to perfection
 The sum of each part forms an octagon
 Let rhyme styles get sparked
 EP Eight stpes to perfection
 The sum of each part forms an octagon
 Where rhyme styles get sparked
 Verse Three: Bigg Jus
 The holy terror, last moves you never won't win
 Playing taps on a violin
 You can never comprehend the rhyme origin
 I rate one like a Chinese, Jamaicin like a chin
 Hot rocking corduroy, Ballys that's so fitted
 Niggas came and assed out my tracks and left 'em shitted
 Fuck the movement, lubricate the smooth shit
 Just to letcha know, never do I use it
 Strictly the blueprint for the ghetto music in my cipher
 Shorty the sniper Jeep like Cherokee
 When I take aim handling wall to wall emcees
 Mr. Madman attract lyrics like magnets
 They fuck up speaking cavernous when I'm stabbing it
 Like the Juice, then go Bronco busting loose
 That's my word, you couldn't shoot or try to compute the math
 To kick any type sport like the vandal
 I manhandle, emcees get murdered like tennessa
 Or trapped in the bedroom with the Texas Chain Saw
 Massacre one two three you're taking and tell 'em
 Eastwick underground New York be the dwelling
 I keep telling 'em the state of the mind be the mentals
 If you murder up in the ghetto you murder in a temple