"The militia...
 	 Certain individuals of unidentified nature
 	 is now under complete control"

 		"Hip-hop is not, what it is today.."

 "It's the real *echoes*... it's the (militia)"

 Verse one: Big Shug

 If heads only knew how I felt about the rap game
 They'd relocate, and change their fuckin name
 I eradicate movefakers, roll with coat shakers
 Give dap to mad money makers
 Shared cells with lifetakers, have sex with rumpshakers
 I make moves so I'ma earthquaker
 I've been known to instill fear
 Although the world may be round, we still trapped in the square
 City light, got me buggin and trife
 Some die by the gun, some die by the knife
 It's alright, like a game of spades I'm trump tight
 Premier hit me with music to ensure that it thump right
 And my flight, will be taken solely at night
 Cause that's when the freaks come out, no doubt
 And in the dark hours is when I will shower
 with the knowledge of my trade to get paid
 Still I make moves like a snake in the grass, roundabout
 I be dickin it down while you be assed out
 Puff mad L's but never passed out
 And if I'm caught up in a jam I blast my way out
 There'll be no lettin up, just straight shuttin up
 or we'll start the wettin up
 Lyrical infrared sceptor never miss you
 Big Shug, Guru, Freddie Foxxx, The Militia, militia

 Chorus: Freddie Foxxx

 Everybody's spittin it, the rhyme is hot
 Cause it's Big Shug, Guru, and Freddie the Foxxx
 When Premier bring the beats, no it just don't stop
 It's The Militia *echoes*

 Chorus

 Verse Two: Guru

 Yo; I ain't one to succumb to no man, but to command
 And scoop up the troops when it's time to take a stand
 Emphatically, deep strategies leave casualties
 I creep gradually, til everybody knows
 that I got more flows than Rosebud got hoes
 The anger inside had me trapped
 til I got geared up with raps to tear you up like big gats
 for big stacks, watch your back when I send em in
 Caught you tremblin, my name and face you're rememberin
 Several attempts, but nah bitch, you'll never win
 Rhymes pierce your skin or maybe limbs we'll be severin
 Take you to the mat, peep that, you should keep back
 My ill-kid format will lay you flat like a doormat
 that I walk on, I meditate while you talk on
 And gossip, so I drop my hot shit; fully loaded glock clips
 So get the fuck out my block, kid
 As nights turn to days, days go back to nights, we be speaking it right
 And keeping it tight up in the street life
 I meet life, head on, no holds barred
 Born with a heart of gold, now mostly cold and scarred
 En guard, choose your weapon, or get to steppin
 Lyrical bullets make you dance from the trance you be kept in
 Assessments are made before, and during combat
 I master my hunger, blow the spot when I bomb cats
 One of us, equals many of us
 Disrespect one of us, you'll see plenty of us
 Conflict, is what I predict
 You and your fellas is mad jealous, attempting to flare
 We cleverly stalked ya, your fam'll miss ya
 The war's on, that's why we formed The Militia

 Chorus

 Verse Three: Freddie Foxxx

 You niggaz owe me for my rhymes, I come to collect
 For you dope fiend niggaz in rap, I here to inject, check
 My style is water baby, spread it around
 But when you niggaz don't flow it right and fuck up my sound
 I get down; in '89 I spit the buck in the face
 of every MC that came in the place, a scar you'll never erase
 MC's are only recognized for their flows
 I'm worldwide for the bitches, that I turned into hoes
 You heard me spit it on Jew-elz, that's how it goes
 For all them faking ass niggaz and how I bust up they nose
 And while your, nose is drippin, and drainin blood
 I be standing over you screamin, "Nigga, WHAT, WHAT?! Nigga WHAT?!"
 Niggas feel my presence, like I'm right in they palm
 Cause a stormy day is coming, when you see me so calm, it's on
 No more twin glocks, they jam up my plays
 Now its twin .40 calibre Walther PPK's
 I'm in the control of my game, you must respect me like The Ref
 Uh-huh, you disrespect *gun clicks* you get the tech
 I turn you fake niggaz on and off, like I'm the clapper
 I rob so many niggaz, they should call me Jack the Rapper
 I'll the illest nigga doing this, dead or alive
 Gloria Gaynor on you motherfuckers, I Will Survive
 You can try to come at me, but do you want the kick back?
 You snap inside the cage of a pit, and you get bit back, huh
 My war is so tight, my drama so ill
 Beef with me hangs around like a unpaid bill
 I push these lyrics through any MC, and make it burn
 So the niggaz who be rhyming next, will miss a turn
 When you speak of who's the dopest MC, I don't come up
 But when you speak of who's the livest MC, I stay what up, what's up?
 I got stripes while you got strikes and bogus mikes
 Do what bitch niggaz do best *UTFO sample* bite
 You niggaz can't make up a law that I don't overrule, overthrow
 Prim' brought Bumpy these tracks so I can let you know
 Before I slide I'ma leave you this jewel
 Even mechanics walk around with they tools
 It's the Militia