[Intro]
The psychosis of being dope
I don't, I don't know

[Verse 1: El-P]
When I burn a party out, all hands is in the air
The sea of indelible squads that don't play fair (Sea air, sea air...)
Squirtin' nare on the heads of nimble, nymphomaniacs don't get the ticket
I'm the E-L-dash-Producto, sick of all these pimp ho Rottweilers
Don't even chase the cat through the woods, surprise!
It's the, indelible, fashion don't demise
E-L-dash-Producto, seein' through your eyes
Not a fish in the frier, dude
I'm like Colossus kid with a metal body armour
You try to stop this, bent for the last time
Situation is indelible, I can't even explain it
It's just masturbation, incredible
Bustin' off on several symptoms, sip delicious
Most MCs just act like bitches
See that indelible squadron Soundbombing
Futuristic, never ever simplistic
PMS, you bomb myself on the Santa, listen
Every single track is like, gifted
El-dash-Producto in the studio, lifted
Off the top of the dome, yo kid, roll that spliff shit
Yo, E-L-dash-Producto, slash and burn like crops, a slusher
Economic warfare don't fare right, am I
Feel the population control
And scary little midgets posin' for trophies, the mostly
Don't approach me, closely
E-L-dash-Producto is toasty
Bringin' out the pocket the rocket
It's not the same, when I bring 'em to the ring ling brothers
Born 'em a Bailey
Three ring circus to watch y'all worthless motherfuckers battle it out
And I'm on top like Funcrushin', microphone bum rushin'
Off the top of the dome and bad touchin'
[Interlude: Murs]
Break it down, Murs
Ayy, it goes

[Verse 2: Murs]
M-U-R-to-the-S (Uh-huh)
Microphone used relentlessly in slaughter
From the West, just got off the plane, don't know how I can maintain
Brain on sleep mode
So I beat those foes, duckin' in the trenches
Pushin' 'em up, like benches, way too pressed
N***as don't test, Living Legends is the crew, never settlin' for second best
That's just the first place loser, crew abuser
Chooser of your fate, find a mate like check
Get my respect after I do a set, now
I can do a set of graffiti, smoke a beedi
Then chill in the batch, back, excuse me
I mean, I don't mean to abuse my microphone privileges
I just like to ad-lib for kids who have no style
I drop it down a while, single file line, have you all lined up
I got this shrine up in my room
All praise due to the microphone
When I drop tones, never been too much alone
'Cause I have multi personalities
You lost a battle on a technicality, that's not straight
I mean I always like to hold the weight 'cause I can stand the pressure
Lesser MC's always fall, the digressor, never stay on point and on focus
Attack you like a swarm of locusts
Perform to just show you hocus-pocus how we do stage magic
It's tragic how these fools be on the microphone
Lookin' tired and ragged, I mean I always bagged it
Not like groceries, plastic or paper, but I do capers
All by my lonesome, on some other shit
Yes, you know Murs rips mic checks, freestyle, no script
It's not written, never been bitten, I've been shittin' on MCs for a while now
Not a stool pigeon, but I school fools on religion
If you wanna take it to the tabernacle
I'll break you down, have your minds in shackles
But I don't believe in following one man
I only hold the mic, got a suntan that's permanent
No worm in it, eat the apple
I grapple with MCs like Mark Gracy, your whole style is spacey
Not well-grounded, not founded, no foundation when I'm doin' this
Microphone freestyle as a demonstration how we do on the West
L.A., or the fresh coast, or should I say
[Verse 3: Shing02]
Should I say, should I bring a lyrical play
Improvisational sensational comin' from the own zone
About to get our flows on
And worry the environmentalists, fuck their petition
No competition, 'cause we be comin' to be, creationist
Shing02, origin of dopeness
Naturally selected out of the MCs, and I still go overseas
International, irrational, thoughts be entering my mind
But I still find the right style to have you confronting
Never fronting from my back
And I never slack off, have the intensity, intense cities
Osaka, Tokyo, Birkley, wonder where it be
The dope freestyler, the wild Rottweiler
Like Chingo, but I'm Shing0 on the microphone, and slow it down
As I switch up the operating system

[Shing02 begins to rap in Japanese]

[Verse 3 continued: Shing02 & Yeshua da PoED]
The freestyle dream team, as we bring it from the West side
And the East bay
As we bring lyrical play, gift, a miracle goin' on
As we slay MCs one by one, and get it done
And every single day that's how we do it continuously (Yo)
Never stoppin', strictly hip-hoppin'
On the microphone, and
[Verse 4: Yeshua da PoED]
This motherfuckin' spectrum, equipped with a big pencil
When flows I spit hit, you're quick to respect 'em
I get mics wet like draws, decors and short circuits
I pour strange thoughts that get caught, arranged
And spit for sport, considerate, a little bit outta, the ordinary
Very fly, how the shit I talk, is backed with act support
Touch the mic after me, if you're dumb enough you're comin' up short
Like bitches on ball courts, in fact, all sports
I rap, you fall, sort of fast on that ass, pass the mic to me
It's like the lead, I rip it, sip it, like some liquid
ODin' on me, I don't need no fuckin' I.D
I be on the corner with my Warner Brothers, word to mother
Peace to Cam Booke, and everybody out there
Yo, I doubt there is going to be any competition
For me to rip in half
I got your wishin' the aftermath wasn't on your ass
So yo, this is why the Po got a lot of flow, and a lot of bros
You gotta know!

[Verse 5: Shing02]
Aftermath is lyrical calculus, you can't calculate this
How can you drop math if you dropped your high school math class?
Not that knowledge has to come from institutions
But MCs are sellin' themselves out like prostitutions
Keep the condom to the minimum when you go back to your condominium
Before the millennium, it's 1998
Shing0 and Yeshua, attack vinyl like a Shewer Needle
'Cause I need to satisfy my lyrical hunger comin' from the down-under sound
Ground, yes the floatation device end with the quotation marked twice

[Verse 6: Murs]
No qualms'll be given, Murs a Legend, Living
Playin' with chicken shake, never kickin' fake raps over beats
Shut your trap, when I come complete
Too concise on this microphone, I'm nice
Twice the man that you are, now look into the eyes
Never really been a true star
On the cover of The Source, well of course
Never been off course, the source of my problems is I can't solve 'em
When I'm fightin' in my mind trapped in nightmares
I might scare the next MC comin' unprepared
Readin' dictionaries, but his vocabulary doesn't match
His brain hasn't hatched from the egg, let it break your leg
So you can really be hip-hop
I never did trip-hop beats, but I don't sleep
I always compete, in the streets where it's raw
Competition never saw, say somethin', get socked in the jaw
Kicked to the floor, Living Legends front door
Entertainment at your arraignment
I will give you the sentence, repentance is necessary
Don't try to ever compare me to any other rapper you heard
I'm servin' words, smackin' you to the curb, up against the wall

[Outro 1: Yeshua da PoED]
Yo, peace to all the people out there
Peace to the We Be Foolish, duty free
Yo, and I'm out, Yeshua da Po
'90, '90, '98, peace

[Outro 2: Shing02]
Yeah, yeah, yo, yo, ayy, yo
We Flow with the Company, but not the corporations
Strictly international underground collaboration
Peace to all the crews back in the Bay
Startin' with the artistic Empire 22, Basin' Side-O
Saafir and Hobo, Del and Heirut, yes we can get along
Swing it back to the J, we got Reno, G and Yoshi, DJ Shin
Miki, and DJ Bill, this is Shing02 from Kutempaku, and I'm out

[Outro 3: Murs]
And this is Murs from Mid-City, givin' a shout-out to my mama
My brother, Cloverdale Ave, the whole gangsters
All of 'em, Living Legends crew
'97, '98, for sheezy