(feat. Mr. Gene Poole)
[Mr. Gene Poole]

The loveliest sound coming out to yo' system

I spark to get y'all off to a good start

Show me some heart, walk through my hood after dark, dodging poison darts 

Catch one in the left lung I hope the Cherokee parks by itself tracksmart 

Act like you part of this you'll find yourself victim of the rhyme bombardment 

Weak shit, I have the tolerance

I write the best rhymes in my sleep

Dreamland beats and freelance techniques fuckin' up the sheets

Ink spots, puss spot niggas tryin to stop this

Think not get ? and listen for your bank knock

We do a lot of this activity in my city 

Get a job in my world, join a futuristic commitee

Weak assistant of three had to be persistantly equal 

In order for it to work out in a balance 

Which comes down to a question of natural talents

Can't keep those gifts isolated in tablets 

It's not about rap ballads, or who can flow the best

What kind of dressing you gonna have with your life salad? (Hmmm...)

French...yes..thank you very much..On to the next



[Slug]

Yo, you rappers elude me but that's nothing new

I still stick to my duty, to kick something true

Still if you wanna boo me we can do this in a circle of peers 

Tell your bitch to kick a beat so I can work you to tears

I've made a full of strangers throw hands in the air  (Man)

I know you sense danger, I can see it in your stare (Man)

Don't provoke anger when the mic's in my hand, 

Cause if I get that spark I'm quick to rip apart your plans

Yo Ant, let's keep this one accesible

Take the fruits that wanna test these bros and make 'em vegetables 

Just to let 'em know that the course tastes pure

Pissed off all the local rappers so it's time to go on tour

I'm sure, so I never break a sweat when a fate steps 

Instead I break that snake's neck and take his breath 

Half the time half of 'em don't catch the rhymes 

They need they friends with to show 'em how we wax behinds

Please fool, hella stupid I'm assuming probably 

Couldn't even rock your own family reunion and I'm through with the politicket

Rhymesayers on a mission, watch the following thinking, motherfucker!



[Mr. Gene Poole]

I stick two fingers through his nostrils and a thumb through his mouth 

And swing em' like a bowling ball make 'em strike the fuck out 

Take a hook and stab it through his back and curve it around his spine and throw em out 

By the lili pads and wait for a hit on my line (Damn!)

Cause this rap shit makes me wanna catch niggas like catfish

Chop 'em up into steaks and sop 'em up off the plate with biscuits and rice

I put the hand of the one that likes to hold mics in a vice 

Make sure he never writes in his life

When it's time for me to display (Stay the FUCK out the way) 

And when its time for you to DJ you going play what I say 

The word for the day is "Fette" cash lessons

Get ready to mash when I give the word don't ask questions 

Pack yo shit, dont smack yo bitch

Leave peaceably cause these'll be vital elements of livin' feasibly 

? the urban ? mocha latte, Saint Paul nigga rocking the uptown partay like coca angel vatte

I provide that mental rush and that physical feeling like yo' whole worlds being dusted 

Be hushed when you see me in deep thought

Hand clutched interrupt and you just might be caught then crushed



[Slug]

Yo, yo, I quit fronting, really-really

I know wrong and right, wrote my songs, shed light to promote a longer life

When I reflect that night, I seek light in the confusion 

I stick to the music and skip the baggage of delusion

Managed to come through and I'm in the minimalism, yo

The damage is due it's time to climb to catch a vision

Yo, I've had it with you, and the terms which I work cause it matter to you 

The flight's cursed, I might burst challenging who? 

Balance the mood, yo Stress, let's gather the crew, 

Commence to wreck shit then exit, I'd rather that you

Throw your hands in the air 

And if that's too demanding you can stand there and stare