[A1 intro]
(Teambackpack.net)
Yo

[A1-verse]
Far as this rap shit goes
I am in need of no co-sign
See, I’ve been holding my own fine
Since 09
Just from creativity, so
If you try to control mine
You get close lined
I’d rather choke, dangling from a rope
With a broke spine
Then end up selling my soul
There is no ladder that I won’t climb
You’re goin’ be needin’ a few runs
To keep me on land
Long as I’m breathing with two lungs
I’m gon’ be my own man
The media speaking with two tongues
I never hold mine
I took a mushroom
And it took over my whole mind
I pictured a pixie was sitting up on my brain
She corrected me
Told me she was sitting on a gold mine
I didn’t get it till I was sitting on a plane
And I was about, like, 30.000 feet in the teal skies
You know, was kind of tired
So I had sealed eyes
But then I finally realized
That we’d been outworking everyone
But they just see the diamond
They don't see us in the coal mine
Donating our blood, sweat, time
The whole 9
But not for all this money
‘cause this money ain't the thing
That we, that we
That we really give a fuck about
See, we do it for them kids
‘cause nobody give a fuck about
The kids killing the kids
Nobody give a fuck about
The kids killing the kids
Every summer when the guns is out
‘cause when the kids kill the kids
Everybody just blames them
And wonders ‘what the fuss about?’
But when the cops kill the kids
The celebrities stay quiet
And everybody shut their mouth
(SHHH!)
And pretend nothing’s happening
See, that’s how you know
Who really downed the ride
My g, it saddens me
But I find the truth is that sometimes
We need a tragedy
To point all of these suckers out
It’s backwards, like:
Htuoy eht gnihsawniarb noisivelet
Shit is backwards, like:
Hturt eht su llet t'now snaicitilop
I mean, take that and rewind it back
I had to opposite the verse
‘cause it might be tapped
But even speaking in reverse
Can’t disguise the fact
That my people gone rise
Keep your minds intact
[It’s Thurl
Ja-Ba-Hi
[Jeff Turner intro]
Download my Muscle Memory for free
Just turn to Jeffmusic.net
Now

[Jeff Turner verse]
Do me a favor:
Grab your phone, throw that shit out
‘cause half of us don’t do anything
For what we’re bitching about
A bunch of half-assed hashtag activists
Lacking practice
Who think we saving the world
While we sit on the couch
And these rich rappers
Tripping me out
Living in Beverly Hills
Talking about killing people
Selling bricks from your house
You’re confused as hell
And you should figure it out
‘cause you got tats on your face
And a dick in your mouth
They annoying my enjoyment
I can’t believe it
Trying to make it sound fun
To be runnin’ ‘round and destroying lives
Walk in the booth
And we’re off the truth
And market it all to the youth
Till the profits are all through the roof
N***a, *beatbox sounds*, uh
I had to had to
Had to become a man
I give a fuck about views
If you can’t see who I am
And that’s an imperfect, grim person
Been searching
Chopping down my nightmares before Christmas
Tim Burton
Coming with some gas you can’t cipher at a cypher
With reverse suction powers
That was powered by a Chrysler
It’s accurately done
I’ll take a fraction of the sun
Looks like Pacman when I’m done
Uhh, backpack, we get it done
Me with a mic
Is an assassin with his gun
Imma give you this business
I can pass it to my son
Bringing change is not a singular action
So stop supporting bullshit every day
And it will actually happen
[Illmaculate intro]
Uh, yeah
Teambackpack, what up?
Make some noise one time
Yo, yo, yo, uh, uh

[Illmaculate verse]
Falling angels, waiting on God to save you
No self-worth when you talk the labels, they won’t compensate you. Watch them pass like a hot potato
Time is money
You point appraisal to waste mine, the cost is fatal
Rugars pop, the music stops
Dodge Illuminati, moving Cuban
Sipping juice on the roof with Pac
Keep it moving, even if she the coolest bop
And Neo in the Matrix dodge the arrow Cupid shot
Get respect from a crowd of several thousand
Fly as the Millennium Falcon, you can watch
See me on the web while you’re browsing
Chemically imbalanced
Money, mentally challenged; stupid guap
Buying bolt, now his packs are movin'
I'll retire from knicks, like Allan Houston and Patrick Ewing
Leave your castle ruins
Every month UCLA, ay, they wanna hear the tracks I'm brewin'
Ask the Cuban, the camera zoom in
God body rapping mutant, Alien, my act ain't human
Lilith and Adam's union, a catholic's communion
See past illusion with DMT my gland's producin'
Black lungs, Mac's tongue is a handgun
Your jaw glass to a Shaq dunk, yeah
I'm Shang Tsung, a mix of kuji rap pun
And every rapper Task1ne bit his raps from
Holy Mohammad, smoking bowl with Madonna
Doing coke with Tony Mortana, getting dome to Nirvana
I'm a couple beans short of the whole enchilada
The mole-sauce, avocado, queso and horchata
I might be gone manaña, I prob' won't see tomorrow
Tell my bro and our momma first to overdose off a Ganju
And I go bury me in Polo and pop a bottle of [?]
Toasted my honor, the sickest period; no coloms or commas
Hold up, I don’t overstate or embellish
Motivated to tell 'em, they cultivated a fellan
I'm oversaying it rather show to make an impression
Understand I'm underrated and overstaying my welcome
(Teambackpack.net)