[Introduction:]
In 2013, the World Government placed sanctions against 
freethinking individuals in order to force people to 
adhere to one way of life. An independently funded 
organization called ("Stop fucking downloading music 
for free and we can save hip hop! " in reverse) hired 
100 assassins to infiltrate the headquarters where 
files were kept
Of these 100, 97 were captured, tortured, and executed
Only three remained
The third of which was said to own an arsenal that 
would rival an entire city's police force
The second was rumored was to be able to move 
throughout space and time
And the first...
[Verse 1: Jean Grae]
Fasten your seat belts for the last of the three 
assassins on earth
The first flashing her purse where the heat's stashed
They call me Jean McCoy, beast in thee employ
Deploy deplorable, through audible destructive actions, 
attractive decoy
Then pass it to Troy, after I'm passing your life over
He'll deliver it through river Styx, Hades
I'm cold, deliberate, ladies, my foes limited
Pray me some praise (whisper it)
Stay on your toes, villains, it's Grae and your day's 
whittling
Blistering lines packed in sick, stick to spine
Wracked with a sick mind, trapped in thick bitch frame
Drug you with strychnine, in nine drinks you drunk
And it's my kidney, you dickbrain - I'm just itching to 
slit veins
Stitch lines, Rick James, fuck yo lives, sip brains, 
bitches
Niggas, kick rocks, or kick rhymes, it's to the pain
Liquor riddled liver, sieve in it, sipping it like 
Capri Sun
Ignint as ever, she's clever, equivalent be none
A ball breaker, call fakers out with passion
You got the gall, bastard, to brawl with the broad 
brashest?
The ball's in your court, pass it
But warning, fall faster than asses with age slack on 
the back of a Kardashian
The walls crash in, you all on the floor gasping
The gas pour in the corridor, racking your jaws, 
blacking out
Catch Grae backing out the back door, cackling
Still make it back to the bar for last call
[Verse 2: Pharoahe Monch]
They ask me why I'm highly regarded, this God body 
probably
Monch is a mixture of Marcus Garvey, Miles Davis, and 
Bob Marley (radical)
Never skateboard slang like "gnarly"
More like, weed in my whip on the way to get top like 
Charles Barkley
You are hardly prepared to spar with a marksman - spark 
me
I'm Gambit with the ace of spades, I'm mastering 
archery
Vehicular, particularly the vernacular
Specifically the fit so when I spit it it's spectacular 
and accurate
When I attack I'm more legend than Acura
Flip Bloomberg the bird, bitch, more blood than Blacula
More Crip than cryptic scriptures encrypted with 
backwards vernacular
Plus sicker than most of Glenn Close in Fatal 
Attraction
I am that nigga for real
Per capita smacking the next rapper that uses the term 
"swag" or thereafter
These three assassins get to ass whipping
Prepare to for a professional ass that can shape shift, 
spit, hollow tip clips mainly
Sick, ain't he? (mind control)
Make you shoot your best friend in the face, Dick 
Cheney
My life is like a documentary film
Depicted in black and white, flick's grainy (Geronimo!)
I'm on Guantanamo Bay taking pics in a Captain Morgan 
pose
With my left foot on a pile of detainees screaming, "We 
are renegades! "
Fuck you. Pay me
[Jean Grae:] Two. Where the fuck... no. Where the fuck 
is three?
[Pharoahe Monch:]
I know. I know. He's gonna be here
He gave me his word, trust me
[Jean Grae:] Yeah, but he does this every time
[Pharoahe Monch:] He's gonna be here trust me
[Jean Grae:] He's gonna ruin this mission for us again
[Pharoahe Monch:] Look, here he comes now
[Verse 3: Royce Da 5'9"]
I be riding round with a stripper-slash-burlesque model
I make it pop like my cock in a Durex condom
I'm a opposite artist I find irony in going
From being like a stone in the grass to rocking the 
Garden
The same irony as going from fully automatic in the 
backyard to having the whole machine behind me
I take my Australian bitches and show her some other 
thangs
She know my stroke is deadly so she gave me bloody 
brain
Don't try to get familiar, if I don't feel you in 
person
I'll flip the script and I'll accidentally kill you on 
purpose
The baddest when I'm flailing, I got so many furs
PETA gonna paint splash me when they see me, no matter 
what I'm wearing
Your bitch about to open up, sniff some blow off of my 
dick
Guess you could say she on my coconuts
I'm on point like Chris Paul
You on point like an Atlantic City hooker that licks 
balls
I'm about to flip in this bitch like Dominique Dawes
And shut shit down like a car when it stalls
I am the deadliest rapper, you claiming that you flow 
like water
But really y'all niggas Evian backwards
Marshall hit the jackpot with this flow that I got
I know when I'm hot
It's my show to stop holding my crotch
My whip cleaner than Amish men in honest ends
Two dimes with me like I'm a twin cause I'm a ten
[Pharoahe Monch:]
Okay... I'm in