[alright party people in the place to be]
[listen up!]

Now some kids don't eat for three days in a week
So they can buy 12-inches and measure wax feet
And if you treasure that need you'll reside with me
Attending morning meetings for vinyl junkies
Who have scratched more feelings than ITF finals
Or (??) crimes upon plastic urinals
These drastic times find you caught in the system
Like a diamond tip lose your grip and your glisten
Taking double-d lessons as the motorcade sped on
You got left behind like JFK's head on
The concrete streets where kids carve patterns
In the name of hiphop, like Shure, or Stanton
And the more you stand on the verge of may's meaning
The less you know about the art of MCing
And when the next 3 kings bring jesus their gifts
You'll have eins zwo, coolmann, and me in the mix
It's a religious order, like my (??)
Believing in the force of the four black quarters
Each season's daughter got caught in confusion
Thought the DJ saved her life, an illusion
Left scanning the movements of the hand that rocks
A nation bred on triple threat's beatbox
And from these 3 MCs down to DJ cheese
You ain't never heard a DJ with cuts like these
Samples:
[uh uh]
[rock on]
[waiting for you]
[action]
[say dino]
[i get smooth and fuck your whole head up]
[don't stop] [yes!]
[i'm not finished yet] [yes!]
[terror tracks] [yes indeed]
[period. end of story.]
[fuckin two DJs]
[oh shit, i love the motherfuckers]