[Mr. Eon]
 This is a remix...this is a remix
 "A-a-a-at-at night the open mic be invitin me to rhyme" --- Rakim
 High & Mighty, Wordsworth, Alkemist, Mr. Eon, wreckin shit
 "A-a-a-at-at night the open mic be invitin me to rhyme"
 Mr. E-O-N must be talkin bout me
 (Who dat?) The one and only High & Mighty MC
 Who be perpendicular when I be dickin ya
 E smoke a bone the size of a fibula
 Prepare for the slaughter, the lyrical marauder
 Unfreakable acts like me and your daughter, did
 I be coughin layin in the coffin
 Step out the fantasy world you be lost in
 Dead man walkin, engage you hawkin
 From Pensauken to Vienna
 I be me and a slew to combat your crew
 With acrobatics only seen in cartoons
 Like the Go-ad Rucker, double-pumped ya
 Puncture, vocally rupture, puff a cluster
 Ambidextrious, both sides test this
 Removin wackness like asbestos

 "A-at night, the open mic be invitin me to rhyme"
 "The open mic...the open mic...at night the open mic be
 invitin me to rhyme"
 "Open m-mic, I bring out that box to the shit."
 "At night, the open mic be invitn me to rhyme...
 the open mic-mic-m-m-mic be inv..itin me to r-rh-hyme"
 "Open mic, I bring out that box to the shit"

 [Wordsworth]
 Yo check it out, yo; From cranadle to cradle and able to print
 I'm so deep that dirt's at my naval, my table submit
 You audio/video vaginal, lines imagine a magnitudes
 That give longitude and latitude some attitudes
 From an environment, freestyle's a requirment
 Upon every album, that my parents had to hide the rent
 If my demise commence unexpectantly, just test my pee
 I bet you see ecstasy or some obscenity inject in me (what else?)
 I flood your airways, place planes in jeopardy
 Flights vanish, panick deputies, expectancy for jet debris
 Let it be, and commence the record to play
 I'm so ahead of my time when I talk there's a seven second delay
 Don't judge a book by its cover when I'm inventin
 I add your colon to my sentence, and start to pluck off on your appendix
 Dexterity hurled is about to rally the world
 You can't write without using like, what are you some type of valley girl?
 At open mics, I'm tellin y'all one last time
 Stop askin for a capellas and then kickin those wach rhymes, flatline
 what, yo-yo-yo

 "A-a-a-a-a-at-a-at night the open mic be invitin me to rhyme
 ..the open m...mic be invitin me to r-r...rhyme"
 "Open mic...I bring out that box to the shit"

 [Thirstin Howl III]
 I'm accustomed to abiding by freestyle penal code
 My rhymes are like long drives going down a scenic road
 Taught discipline through paragraphs, walk backstreets and narrow paths
 My kicks look dirty and pants sag like I have no ass!
 Flippin styles that'd pioneered in the Space Age
 Writin your first paragraph, I'm already on my eighth page
 For the way you write your rhymes, I could tell you never really made grades
 Going through life miserable, hatin yourself on payday
 A pleasant plea, Thirstin in parentheses
 I heard a mute man mention me to a blind woman on Vescey Street
 Urged to leave gats alone in memory of Pumpkin and Faster Poem
 Wouldn't want my moms to identify me with half the dome!
 A toast, with high price gangrere
 Battle the best motherfuckers and whoever they bring here
 Long term, sought through rations
 I even put freestyle under special skills when submitting application
 Flows, that can't be followed by asthma patients
 Got a deathwish? Here's his extension, ask for Satan
 The rap languages me and more, findin subjects in Singapore
 Impressin MC's who swore to God they'd seen it all

 "The open mic be invitin me to rhyme"
 "...The open mic...the open mic be invitin me to rhyme"
 "Open mic I bring out that box to the shit"
 *scratched out by DJ Mighty Mi