Intro:
 Reak skills  Bronx styles  Cypress Av meets Cypress Hill
 Real hip hop  bounce to this shit motherfuckers  READ EM!
 You know what's up  SHRAP!
 Commisioner Gordon rock on
 Tony Touch y'all rock on
 Kid Capri yeah rock on
 DJ Kenny Coffin yo rock on
 Verse 1:
 In 199 sess  KRS is in his peak in
 You are weak in and collapse like Mike  collect the beacon
 You talk more ish than a cellullar
 You can't last, just call me Enema
 cos I give that ass-troid, heaven and mergatroid
 I'm that six, umm, microphone-holdin humanoid
 Pyschological like Sigmund Freud
 But I get annoyed cos these rappers have no brain
 These hardcore rappers crack me up like cocaine
 They got no skill or game
 They sellin that commercial let me say it "Ask for Minoxnial with row
 gain"
 True skills I will explain
 The teacher breaks this whole shit down plain
 Chorus:
 West Coast beef must dead, no-ho-ho
 East Coast beef must dead, no-ho-ho
 Time for us to move ahead, no-ho-ho
 B-boy hip-hop is dead, no
 We must move ahead (x8)
 Verse 2:
 People always say when they see us, teach us
 so we move by the inch, teachin only some of it, believe us
 Hustlas and players and hos will never leave us
 They been around since Mary Magdalene and Jesus
 Run wit it, pimps and players run the government
 We been raised on a tonne of it that's why we're lovin it
 Bein a player is cool when you a kid
 until you get sent up for a eight year bid
 Now you use and abuse and serve like hell
 til one day you are found face down upon the ground
 two shots to the dome, we need to switch quick
 Dyin over what you players, I think, call a bitch
 I'm not a player hater cos I hate no one
 but when you start destroyin hip-hop, you gots ta go, son
 Government attack one who's brainwashed
 Government attack two who is, yes, brain rinsed
 Government attack three is for you and me
 to constantly dream about the Lex with bulletproof tints
 It's pointless to think I'm knockin ya
 If you a pimp, be a pimp, I'll be a philosopher
 So the....
 Chorus
 Verse 3:
 Y-yes are the intelligent, we descend on every establishment
 In the East or West, microphone grabbin it
 Chess-to-chess, lyrical confrontation is dope
 for the hip-hop nation, yet our hope, your scope
 is broader than who can kill who and who got the biggest crew?
 That's why black people cannot seem to break thru
 It's like crabs in a pot when one crab reaches the top
 other crabs wish to pull down and blood (BLOODS)
 I'm not understandin what's all the fuss
 Hip-hop belongs to all of us
 The East created it, the West decorated it
 Learn the lesson, the unified picture is black expression
 When black expression heights itself
 it becomes black digression leadin to depression in health
 Now question these ideas today
 If hip-hop was destroyed could we blame the CIA
 or the FBI, you'd be a motherfuckin lie-
 -er, li-ar, pants on fire-er
 Conspiracy theories are contrise or we keep them on the shelf
 We got no one to blame but ourselves
 So....
 Chorus
 We must move ahead (x8)
 All beef is dead