* not 100% sure this is the MC's name



[Chorus]

We got them, Sledge, (?) ruff heads (check the flow)

King Tee's on the set (check the flow)

When niggaz try to get high-tech (check the flow)

The dialect's on the flex



[Sledge]

Watch this, when I shine I bring rain

Clouds, bust storms, yo, this ain't the norm

When I perform, I get you up out your seat

Get down with the real deal skills, then chill

Then show your ass how to get amped, then lamp

Stretch, flex, then tackle what's next

Cause MC's, that luck up, need to hush up

who can't brush up, on their rap style, shut the fuck up

Then duck from the one that gets buck-wild

I chop your ass in half, with a smile

Big grin, all teeth, for those who got beef

Fuckin with me ock, you're six feet deep

Down in the ground, alone with no sound

while I'm up here CHILLIN, top billin

And illin, on all those, who oppose

I wanna take one more shot, strike a pose, uhh!



[Chorus]



[King Tee]

Smash, here comes the one that talks trash

to garbage MC's, who try to diss me

and my crew - the ill ville animal cannibal

backbreakers, government amputators

Bounce to this if you think you know the hits

And all you gassed-up critics, put the brakes on the shit

Cause I'm tired of this, and I'm tired of that

Motherfuckers sayin King Tee's shit was wack

But in fact, my rhymes crack backs and make money stacks

by the truckload, now let's go for the gold

So strap on your seatbelt yo and let's go

And get down, to the sound that burns quick

Cause I'm about to burn rubber, on this number

and any MC who claims his style is legit

Suckers wanna try me?  (I know not why Tee)

I light that ass up like the 4th of July G, uhh!



[Chorus]



[T] Check the flow, check the flow, check the flow yo

[S] Check the flow, check the flow, check the flow yo

[T] Check the flow, check the flow, check the flow yo

[S] Check the flow, check the flow, check the flow



[Sledge]

Capital S-L, crooked letter humpback fuck that

thump that, shit that's never wack

Cause this goes out too all the niggaz that we rushin

To hear the shit I'm bustin over ruptured percussion

It ain't my fault that I'm layin niggaz down like asphault

and blow your ass away like chalk, dust

Then crush your monkey-ass unto the side

Cause wrecked dialect is causin lyrical genocide



[King Tee]

I stress facts like IRS wants tax

from anyone claimin that they're livin, kind of fat

You see, I could get sick in the thick of shit

I turn my toes up, when it goes up, my foe's butt

Hey nigga back-steps, even you can get hit

I'm more crankier than a bitch on the shit!

Niggaz get heated cause they just got defeated

by the two man team, the Sledge and the King, uhh!



[Chorus]