[Verse 1: from the Show & A.G. "Full Scale EP"]

[Verse 2: from the DJ Clue CD "The Professional"]



[Verse 1]

Yo, my squad is honored like Elijah Muhammad

But I'm God-retarded, ain't no righteousness in this heart of violence

Hard as diamond but I'm in the ruff, listen up

If you ever see me with the Feds you can bet it's in the cuffs

Ain't no snitch in us, bitch in us

Unofficial-ness, everything we outside you wish you was

Official thugs in the drug profession

Drug connections, drug addictions

Still seein the judge for drug possession

The four-D's, all these is more reas'

to either get big, or leave and let live

We the best there is T.S., ain't nobody else

We probably Dove, cause we all way on top of the shelf

I'm lockin your wealth with the master keys, freeze

Don't try to breeze, or I'ma squeeze and blast the back of your knees

Just pass the cheese, please don't test the toaster

My tech'll roast ya body faster than Ferrari's Testarossa

You're gettin closer to death, Reaper's got a hold on your breath

You goin straight to hell as you sell your soul for your flesh

You was posin a threat, now you froze in the bed

Minute ago, you was poppin shit, holdin ya dick

Now what's the problem, you ain't nuttin like you said on your album

I thought you was wildin bustin your guns and runnin the island

You was't violent, you was silent tryin to get college credits

How pathetic, did it to get out of the calisthetics

I'm +Dianetics+ combined with lyrics

My matureness is my insurance

Kill my appearance, I'm a shinin spirit

You gotta fear it, cause every last gem is poison

You gotta cheer it, you can't win you better join em

I'm head-annointin niggas like the Holy Gospel

I'm the only vato loco to smoke you with fire-blowin nostrils

Watch for the toast, when you see it, you better draw yours

Warlords, callin The Giant, it's all yours



[Verse 2]

Fuck all y'all non-believers; I roll with God, the Squad and T.S.

Out with the B.S. we platinum, they even doubted Jesus

Niggas is 85%, I'm 400 solid

Brain-bolic with knowledge, cock-diesel scholars

Holdin it down, walkin around with gold by the pound

Frozen and drowned with diamond boulders all in the crown

Talk of the town, soakin you down wit toast 'til you drown

Ghost you and pound your corpse with a force that'll open the ground

Save the jokes for the clowns, I'm on the serious tip

You keep playin.. and I get furious quick

And now I take you for a walk through the ghetto

Either spark your metal or get outlined in chalk by the devil

I rep the borough that mothered this rap shit, I used to clap shit

Now I just lay back and mack on some mack shit

I used to have to pack a mac in back of the Ac(ura)

Now I relax and stack platinum plaques in my shack

It's like that, but don't think I won't counter act

My niggaz is strapped and quick to lay a bitch on his back

I'm swift with the mac, quicker than Kung Fu

with the reflexes of a cat, and the speed of a mongoose