I figure we start it out correctly..

this is Blueprint, RJD2 on the tracks

this is a new tune Gotta get it right today, you know

Whatever



[Chorus x2]

Printmatic, cinematic perfection

the blueprint, for crews that lack direction

automatic, just for my people

automatic, just for my crew



Infinitively ill

while most MC's show nothing but cold symptoms and hopes of ripping

I turn crews of hard rocks into pot holes to piss in

and you be no different, because you don't listen

too many wanna accept your crew of mediocre henchmen

who got you gassed up for an ill-advised solo mission

but you should watch who you listen to

they only did it cause they tryin to get rid of you

and be the man standing in the limelight instead of you

a little less dead weight, a little more revenue

and you're about to play right into their hands

cause you dumb enough to buy all the bullshit they're selling you

I guess one's born every minute

and all the cats you roll with are living proof of that schedule

man listen, I'm willing to bet your DJ was born one minute ahead of you

in the same hospital, maternity ward, crying in the crib, sittin right next to you

you got beef? I got vegetables

so if you really want it you can leave with a full stomach



[Chorus X2]



In rumbles, I funnel words until I start feeling fully galvanized

inhale formaldahyde, exhale the battle rhymes

begin to bomb in a calm manner, jaws drop and shatter

gall bladders burst, punks jump up and get their egos punched

by a far fatter verse

and you can celebrate afterwards

with a single release party in the back of my black hearse

invite your groupies, maybe one of thems a nurse

with imported ice cubes from purgatory in her purse

but I doubt it, and to my rivals

your chance of survival is slim to none unless you get a gun

or show your true colors and act like a bitch and run

praying that you're not another raisin in the sun

but I suppose foes of mine chose the latter

and scattered outta the way of powerful flows

I shatter em those with blows that land hard enough

to knock the snot outta your nose

isn't it funny how funny style contestants get reverted back to adolescence

turn your microphones in and turn into crack peddlers

now your dope and no one expects you to rap better

you ain't a hard rock you write raps with feathers

in the school of hard knocks you majored in mascara

with a minor in black leather

a nightclub swinger trying to get your sister act together

but I'll close the curtain, it's certain that i'll close the curtain



[Chorus x3]