(feat. Xun Tsu & The Most Talented)



[set to the beat of Mike Tyson's Punch Out for the NES]



[Michael Buffer]

Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls

Let's get ready to rumble!



[Tek]

You got me lock, more flavors to drop

Once me bust, no shots we take bop

Burns they gun, done cheffed up they block

Smokey Lah get what's in the dead rock

We like what fire, when shots fire

You say your eye bust buyin then we aim higher

Never retire, I'mma street cyer

When your ten boys are dead, even more fire



[Steele]

Nigga we all timers, all you niggas are small timers

With alziners, Tek n Steele the lost rhymers

Chart climbers, start drama, spark ganja

Affiliated with deep scholars and street mobsters

New York's an author, Notorious like Big Poppa

Cuz I know killas that'll leave you missing like Hoffa

You cat's are imposters, we show rockers

Cloak poppers, show glocks off and turn to show stoppers



[Chorus: Steele]

You rappers can't even hang with me

Can't handle the game like me

Get on the blaze, cuz on the shame and sweat

Do it for days, it ain't no thing for me, nigga

You rappers can't even match with us

Can't handle the track like us

Don't know a man that can stand with us

And no game, you rappers can't handle us



[Xun Tsu]

Ain't no motherfuckin thing changed, it's Xun Tsu

The same cat that loved to lick shots at your crew, I'm back

New tactics, new plans, Xun Tsu dented shit like the Son of Sam

It's mask murder, this industry ain't seen nothin yet

We blood thirsty, niggas best protect they neck

Xun Tsu, and my military you get wicked like voodoo

Hittin em up, take two

Never assimilated, I'm not a Blood but affiliated

Weed smoke keeps me stimulated

Who you been with, see my niggas I sent with

It's scared in the same room, next bed shit

Is you bout it, words quotable so don't doubt it

Got soldiers that'll have you moved out and re-routed

My infantry got you runnin like El Nino

For cats that bust nine-millies and quattro cinquos



[Chorus 1/2]



[Michael Buffer]

From New York city, New York

Wearing the red trunks with yellow trim

And weighing in at 120 pounds



[The Most Talented]

Ya try to pull a roll on my eyes, imagine that

I pity the itty and livin the lie

The all I seein, Most gon peep it all in the game

And show mistake made dog, cuz you and two are the same

Never that, now who be the one that spray for the fool

You know the name punk, body up in I.C.U.

It's how y'all do, to be hold to feel the wrath of the lord

And little fame god, your soul trapped off in the morgue

Mess around, you thought you was smart but I can forsee

Anythin an imbecile try to hide it to sleep

Believe me, I know the rules and I'm on to you

You smile at me, but I'm hip to the things you do

You feel the flame, and leave a mark symbolizin my name

The Most Talented but known to leave a rapper in pain

You the amateur, try to score a point on the champ

The lone soldier be the Most, run a muck in ya camp,

Game Over, uh



[Tek]

You the lyrics from my mother flucker, shots from my bun

Lyrics from the mother fluck like a nuclear bomb

See me come and lady dance with me, chris and one

And the con underneath made it drink after one



[Chorus x2]