[Grand Agent]

It's like Farrakahn say, a new thing is happenin today

It's sweet to blaspheme beats when you ain't got to pay

But the ancients stress patience, the Agent knowledge ancients

If I take my time, what can I can't spit

Don't exist, the moment bliss, myself and I kiss

You know it's bonafide, certified hotness

From the muthafreakin Major Deacon

to the 5 Interstate, mildly penetrate, like the Kahlua

Place the homogenized, to bass I philosophize

Grace the demonic guys and space, I'm outta Dodge

My interests include flow, love and war

The hip championship I'm thuggin for

So take the flyest rook rhyme book like a leak and freak

Page 43: the Jet Beauty of the Speak

Now, I don't really know but some city said

The Grand came through, left this kid mic for dead

Ya minglin wit mayhem slim

...

What up Starr? Word to Kenneth, we ain't in the same

You better off spectatin, speculatin the aim

Rest assured, I got the fresh mature listeners locked

on some extra-next-texturized imagery stock

Inspired by, only the desire to be

the Mega-Interworld poster man-child MC



[Chorus]

Ya minglin wit mayhem slim [x4]



[Grand Agent]

Yo, if this ain't ill, dub don't commence wit the drum fill

And it don't take a late night to make it tight

Willie bigger than a Billy Squire beat but comprehends

None of what I speak him see-through cuz him pretend

Now I don't really know but some city said

The Grand came through, left this kid mic for dead

From the front page of Final Call, "Genocide" bellowed

They ain't understand this kid mic was made of metal

I jetted though, runnin for the credit of course

Cause rap shit own my life since James Brown was the source

And girls act stupidly when I be spillin 'em text

Like they chest was silicone and I was feelin 'em

But they numb, +Dumb+ in the skull as I be +Cold Gettin+

Ya minglin' wit mayhem slim, it's soul-splittin

...

Pick up the pieces like the bread that be Jesus

with the Welch's that's the blood, I know you felt like half a thug

When I came in the door, spit somethin raw

Then broke fast like we on a twenty city tour, yo

Salaam-alaikum on behalf of the move-fakin

Who's bacon? Biblically, it's mine for the takin

Technically, the recipe is unwritten

Cause all these gun smitten rappers just be fuelin the era y'know



[Chorus]



[Grand Agent]

This is the Grand Age, yo, clear the stage

Recommit, get on some other shit

You in the Grand Age, nigga, clear the stage

Yknahmsayin?  Bounce!



Grand Agent, Kutmasta Kurt