Mr.Cheeks
 Yo  we come through like bulls  nigga take two puffs and pass
 nigga  watch your back once you talk out your ass
 I back up 3 80 and my stash for protection
 family is raged  the world is acting crazed
 I never thought I'd make it  it was hectic when I scrambled
 on point like a knife I'm takin' life as a gamble
 And living in the rotten apple  yo where every core is rotten
 all my niggas rest in peace ya see you gone but not forgotten
 now my main wifey, dead as shaded chicks,
 official Lost Boyz since the year of 86
 And fuck these crooked niggas I could kill em with a passion,
 at times I feel like slashing in Jamaican Queens fashion
 You think you can fuck around, but kid you're just thinking
 It's over when I'm sober, imagine when I'm drinking
 Without blinking man, I'll tare your crew like pages
 I'll rip you from the backyard of ? ...

 --A
 A plus the lyrically superb one, spittin rhymes
 Off the top of the tongue to burn ya ear drums
 Rotten shit, make the opposite team call a time out,
 knockin niggas three times my size out
 The crowd loves me, so when I aint around they ask for me,
 I buckle up to kick rap like a crash dummy
 For the fast money, I get up in that ass money
 the fact you tryin' to test me kinda bugs me
 I leave crews fed up, like handicap niggas tryin' to get up
 Emcees get wet up with lyrical gun pillars,
 I blow up the spot when it's time to rock
 I speak through a mic my voice peak out at a hundred watts
 Who wanna fight son, I get dumb
 word to my mother the father the holy ghost and Rev Run,
 When the Source set it down, I'm inner serviced
 To cop the type of verses that average emcees seem to worship

 --Redman
 My style is milking magnesia, clutch divide speeding bust
 the more the merrier, secure the area, my life familiar
 is ultimate superior we dont jack cars
 we jack for aircraft carriers
 I bounce like trampolines, when I be blowing the feces to pieces
 hymn em like sewing machines and Jesus
 When the shadows of the barrel pointing out my (?) Camarro
 I get punished like pharaoh for splittin'
 You're better off singing Christmas carols for Christmas,
 because I'm on point like bow and arrow equipment
 The president of chicken head conventions
 I give you a deluxe Ku Klux lynchin'
 I got a headache from the stress, success not wearing a vest
 5-11 for being dirty and quarts of 9-30
 Yo, Mr.Cheeks, I made this bitch call police
 she tried swallowing a nine piece
 forgot the warrantee on false teeth
 I return like Makaveli on 18 inch Pirelli's
 assault and battery like my palms was ever ready
 sharp as machete's
 matter of fact I slap (?) ...

 --Canibus
 Canibus brings the sickest drama,
 fierce enough to pierce the thickest armor
 I smack bitches who try to suck dick through a condom
 Playing with the mic is something I wont do
 my only concern when I approach you, is to roast you
 I smoke you and whoever you standing close to
 and make every man in your crew deny that he knows you
 defeating, niggas like Segal Steven,
 putting Emcees in, positions to prevent 'em from breathing
 I'll make you question any and everything you've ever believed in
 by peeping your deepest secrets like psychic readers,
 What's the matter with ya'll, I splatter ya'll
 against the mutha fuckin wall with these raw lyrics I catapult
 None of ya'll got the balls big enough to battle,
 I go On & On like Erika Badu
 a hundred times nicer than the best there is
 twice as African as KRS is, who wanna test this
 Fuck yall you dont impress me and no one can test me
 An Emcee so ill, I got AIDS scared to catch me
 All that shit you poppin will stop, when I put you in a headlock,
 and apply pressure until I crush your mutha fuckin noggin
 I grab mics and push niggas to the left
 so fast their hearts end up on the right side of their chests
 My hypothesis, is that nobody can see this
 lyrical genius, I got it sown like a seamstress
 But if you want to battle, I'm down,
 If you got nine lives, I'll take eight of them off your hands right now
 Step up and get your neck cut from ear to ear
 If you survive, then you can cover your scar with a beard
 I'm the illest from Queens to the new Jerusalem briddicks
 anyone who aint feeling my shidick can suck my didick
 You need to quit it, if you aint spitten
 more than 50 bars per minute cause you aint in lyrical fitness
 kickin' boring raps with metaphors that's wack
 all of ya'll mutha fuckas need NordicTrack
 to get ya weight up, fuckin with Canibus you get ate up
 get beat down and sprayed up, just for bringing my name up
 been rockin longer than niggas twice my age
 back in the days before Bob Marley was rockin a fade
 before Honest Abe signed the paper that freed slaves
 before Neanderthals was drawing on walls in caves
 I existed, in the garden of Eden gettin lifted
 stickin dick to Eve before she was Adams mistress
 Before Christ created Christmas, I been in lyrical fitness
 The Canibus is spitten till' he's spitless
 50 bars of total sickness, you wont forget this
 I'm puttin' every wack Emcee alive on my shit list
 verbally vicious, tele-connectically gifted
 took you a minute, to exhibit that I'm sick wit it
 Now you tell me who you think is damaging shit
 going once, going twice
 Sold to that nigga name Canibus
 Me and Mr.Cheeks, A-Plus, and Funk Doctor
 hopping out the Hue helicopter to suey chop ya