*musical interlude*
 It's to the listener
 (repeat interlude and line 4X)

 Verse One: Rakim

 It's to the listeners, for those that have a ear for this
 State of the art, engineered for the mix
 Eardrums are playing along to what I'm sayin you're singin a song
 Stevie Blass on the keyboard, swingin along
 But you don't have to dance, play it cool and listen
 My DJ's mixin, and I'll do the quizzin
 Cause who is number one if not best then better
 Here's a hint: the 18th letter
 The rhymes is sportable, microphone is portable
 For any immortal man, swords is not affordable
 Never take a loss cause I'm hard to beat
 I ain't cheap but don't sell me a dream I don't sleep
 I'm Paid in Full, so save the bull
 This ain't a stick-up, you don't have to wave until
 you feel Sure, and you want more then wipe your sweat
 Cause I just wanted to see how hype you could get
 Cause when I came in the door steppin hard enough to shake the floor
 I just started but the others can't make no more
 Runnin out of beats breaks and out of time
 If I was gone, you'd be runnin out of rhymes
 I improve, record don't have to be long
 If it's understood and the story is strong
 You can speak out and hold the crowd as prisoners
 The people is peepless, it's to the listeners

 Verse Two:

 I'm the Lord, for somethin you can absorb
 Try and control and be cautious but the cut's in a cord
 Make me deeper than down, I make the crowd, crowd around
 People are peepless, cause the soloist found
 Phrases, thoughts, made by the R of course
 One thing I do is keep em different, and far from yours
 You keep talkin, when will all the damage be done?
 You say you're rulin but when I'm in the place you don't come
 Maybe you're waitin, to see what I'm makin
 One more style gets taken, then I'ma be breakin
 If the patterns are causes, piano is soft
 But make it hard for you to start, where I left off
 You find yourself, till the point is across
 You hit reverse to rewind it, that's when you hit the pause
 I set the scene, first you hear mixin
 Then the microphone fiend's in effect, still listenin?
 Pay close attention, never before mentioned
 Listen up I got a brand new invention
 Made from a musician it's notes are played crisp
 But listeners listen to what I wrote on a disc
 Copywritten but still bitten they almost sound like
 Almost pumpin, but it ain't down like
 A record's supposed to sound, watch as it go around
 Records are broken, smashed into the ground
 That ain't My Melody, brothers keep runnin up and tellin me
 Others are trying to flow smooth and steadily
 Potholes are left in my path then I crash and bruise
 Whoever refuse and cruise right past em
 Cause I just left to do it for easy whatever
 Death, till I get back you better stay in step
 After speaking you'll stare, if I was there your description is
 Letters full of poetical medicine, this is for the listeners