[Album Intro: an interview clip of Guru]
That makes me know that–what we're doing...
We had the right idea in the beginning
And–and, we just need to maintain our focus and elevate
We––what we do, we update our formulas
We have certain formulas, but we update 'em (Oh, right)
With the times and everything, y'know
So, y'know–the rhyme style is elevated, the style of beats is elevated
But it's still Guru and Premier
And it's always a message involved

[Song: DJ Premier, sample]
The reeeeaaal... (The real...)
Hip-Hop (Hip-Hop)
MC'ing (MC'ing), and DJ'ing (DJ'ing)
From your own mind (From your own mind)
You know? (You know?)

"I... I guess right now we should start the show?"

[Verse 1: Guru]
Who's the suspicious character –
Strapped with the sounds profound, similar to rounds spit by Derringers?
You're in the Terrordome, like my man Chuck D said
It's time to dethrone you clones, and all you knuckleheads
‘Cause MC's have used up extended warranties
While real MC's and DJ's–are a minority
But, right about now, I use my authority
'Cause I'm like the Wizard, and you look lost like Dorothy
The horror be–when I return for my real people
Words that split wigs, hittin' like some double Desert Eagles
Sportin' caps pulled low, and baggy slacks
Subtractin' all the rappers who lack–over Premier's tracks
Severe facts–have brought this rap game to near collapse
So as I have in the past, I whoop ass
Dropping lyrics that be hotter than sex and candle wax
And one-dimensional MC's can't handle that
While the world's revolving–on its axis
I come with mad loving, plus the illest war-like tactics
The wilderness is filled with this
So many people searching for false bliss
I'm here, with the skills you've missed
The rejected stone is now the cornerstone
Sorta like the master builder, when I make my way home
You know my steez
[Hook: DJ Premier scratches]
"You know my steez!"
"Let 'em know – do your thing, God"
"Keep it live (Keep it live, keep it live)"
"To the beat, y'all!"

[Verse 2: Guru]
The beat is sinister – Preemo makes you relax
I'm like the minister, when I be lacin' the wax
I be bringin' salvation through the way that I rap
And you know, and I know – I'm nice like that
Work through worldly problems, I got the healing power
When the mic's within my reach, I'm feeling more power
Stealing at least three minutes of every rap radio hour
It's often easier for one to give advice–
Than it is for a person to run one's own life
That's why I can't be caught up in all the hype
I keep my soul tight, and let these lines take flight
The apparatus gets blessed, and suckers get put to rest
No more of the unpure, I got the cure for this mess
The wackness is spreadin' like the plague
MC's lucked up and got paid
But still can't make the fuckin' grade
How many times are wannabes gonna lie?
Yo, they must wanna fry
They can't touch the knowledge I personify
I travel through the darkness, carrying my torch
The illest soldier–when I'm holdin' down the fort
You know my steez
[Hook: DJ Premier scratches]
("You know my steez!")
"Let 'em know – do your thing, God"
"Keep it live (Keep it live)"
("You know my steez!")
"Let 'em know – do your thing, God"
"Keep it live (Keep it live)"
("You know my steez!")
"Let 'em know – do your thing, God"
"Keep it live (Keep it live)"
("You know my steez!")
"Let 'em know – do your thing, God"
"Keep it live (Keep it live)"
"The mic ––"

[Verse 3]
On the microphone, you know that I'm one of the best yet
Some punks ain't paid all of their debts yet
Tryin' to be fly, ridin' high on the jet
Set with juvenile rhymes, makin' fake-ass death threats
Big deal, like En Vogue, here's somethin' you can feel
Styles more tangible, and image more real
For some time now, I've held the scrolls and manuscripts
When it's time to go all out, you'll be like, "Damn, he flipped!"
Now I'm sick, fed up with the bullshit
Got the lyrical full clip, givin' you a verbal ass-whip
Don't trip – it's the Gifted prolific one
Known as Bald Head Slick; why is the press all on my di-dick?
My style be wilder than a kamikaze pilot
Don't try it – I'm about to start more than a friggin' riot
Styles unsurpassable, and nukkas that's suckas –
Yo, them motherfuckers are harrassable
For I be speakin' from my parables, and carry you beyond
The mic's either a magic wand –
Or it gets tragic, like the havoc of a nuclear bomb
Then I grab your palm – no pulse, you're gone
And if you thought we'd lose our niche, in this rap shit? You way wrong
I stay up, I stay on, shine bright like neon
Your song's pathetic, synthetic like Rayon
Fat beats, they play on
Want dope rhymes? Put me on
Word is bond –
You know my steez