[Black Thought]

It's jazz - hip-hop hangin in my head heavy

Malik said "Riq, you know the planet ain't ready

for the half" when we comin with the action pack

On some Dundee shit representin the outback

Yo, we do it like this (All the way live, from 2-1-5)

You witnessin the 5th Dynasty family click (All the way live, from 2-1-5)

Across the map, one time for ya (All the way live, from 2-1-5)

It's time to react to respond to react to respond (All the way live, from 2-1-5)



[Chorus]

We settin it from Southside, pushin this up North

From Illadelphian reps, to fly points across the map

Bring it back to Respond/React

Then bring it back to Respond/React to this



[Verse One: Black Thought]

The attractive assassin, blastin the devil trespassin

Master gettin cash in an orderly fashion

Message to the fake nigga flashin

Slow up Ock, before you get dropped and closed like a caption

Fractional kids don't know the time for action

Styles got the rhythm that of an Anglo-Saxon

Round of applause then avalanche of clappin

[BLOW] that's what happen, now what's your reaction

We heavyweight traction, pro-pornographin

Specialize in science and math and, original black man

Bustin thoughts that pierce your mental

The fierce rippin your sacks and

Vocal toe to toe impeccable splittin your back son

Simple as addition and subtraction

Black Though, the infinite relaxed one

Shorties say they love it with a passion

Bring the international charm, see a squad I harass



[Verse Two: Malik B]

REACT, you best adapt when I sling this rap

Another chapter, before when I have to trap ya

Map your whole path out

Go get your crowd so we can clap out

I drive down streets and take back route- positionin

When I'm in your system like glycerin

Fans listenin, from Michigan to Switzerland

Malik be blitzed again - on the station with the discipline

Solicitin, sometimes illicit or explicit with it and

from the deep end where the hills are steep

Nobody cares to speak, a land where life is cheap

The street mentality, mixed with the intellect

Personality, hell where I dwell as well

Niggas rebellious, bodies are found down in the cellars

My man caught a shot to the stomach, now who want it?

Confronted by these dusty blunted - cats who act like

they don't know that the fact is that they're bein hunted

A process of elimination

Activate your mind with the stimulation 

Enter your zone with penetration

I've seen more horror than Bram Stroker

Strip your broad or play poker, then drink mocha

The sometimes socializer, the joke despiser

You woke the wiser, dealin with the Roots vocalizer

Up in your flesh from South Philly to West

I stampede your style, I'll compile then bless



[Chorus - 2X]



[Verse Three: Black Thought]

Hey yo, I'm just a lyricist, a chemist of the hemp

The beat pimp, the ill Philly resident

That's far from hesitant, corrupt like a President

Never benevolent but poetically prevalent

Cooler than peppermint

The Lieutenant for niggaz talkin bout represent

No doubt, it's obviously evident I get bent

Far from temporary son I'm very permanent

Hittin MC's like an intoxicant, sent to prevent

Monopoly is my intent, the means is what I invent

This mental murder pay the rent

Lyrically I'm the dominant ingredient, the swift extravagant

Smooth lubricant, down with the M-the-Ill-itant

(ch-ch-ch...) That's the sound of the Dynasty chant

We surround your camp, assumin the war stance

And bring it from the chest, now let's dance



[Verse Four: Malik B]

M-ILL-ITANT, feel the 5th guerilla chant

Y'all talk about bodies but you would not kill a ant

My skill is amp, would peel a nigga like a stamp

Caliber is of Excalibur now you be damp

When I operate a crowd will copulate my game

I make a womb populate and 2-1-5th is the stock of hate

Peep the logistics, slump your squad of misfits

They all get they wrists slit, blast your ass if you insist it

Leave no trace so there's no trace for ballistics

Turn your soul and body to statistics

In particular I've got that extracurricular

Squad in the stash who could be stickin ya

Slip and they vickin ya

Harass your po-lice commissioner

Don't like chicks with weaves talking 'bout, "I need conditioner"

That shit's deader than niggaz with a mortioner

A jenazah, up in your flesh like plasma

Take away your last breath when you got asthma

Then meet Bad Lieu down at the plaza

Hip-hop extravaganza, tell your man I slump him with a stanza

Now "Who's the Boss?" not Tony Danza

My force not green but the force is obscene

P.O. took a piss test it came out not clean

Brody with my man Miz-Moose and Hakeem

My squad from deuce-four up to West Oak Lane

All the way to Takahwana and Frankfurt they know the name

It's like that... M-Ill-itant



[Black Thought]

M-Ill-itant, Eric Al he hostile, Bad Lieutenant

Check it out, (??) style check it out



[Chorus - repeat w/ ad libs]