Flavor Flav
[Verse 1: Chuck D]
Damn back again, up on track again
2G around the bend
Some of y'all black again
It got dark
On your mark get set
Out of sight out of mind
Hyprocrites forget like marionettes
Strings in the back like nets
The chosen one who fuckin' laughed himself to death
Lack of rhymes, meaningless punch lines
Battle for your mind, like Israel and Palestine
Good news in some fuckin' hard ass times
No more disses, repeated hook lines and chorus'
Days full of Doris'
Got issues and wishes
Got the jam but gettin' paid up off the misses
Ain't nothin' wrong but wait fuck another love song
It's the R&B strangler bringing noise in the Wranglers
Rock all the heads big times and alzheimers
Shot the pill while I drop skills up in Brazil
Now the pitch time for a label switch
Thanks I get
I put the roof up on top this bitch
Lord save us from that sword of Davis
That kidnap hip-hop tracks and the beats in the game of rap
Put my soul in it
Care less about the gold in it
Boom the shootie
Got 'em running from the paparazzi
La di da di, when the feds come and doom your party
Cracker in the back, don't you know it's illuminati
Ain't nothing changed, P.E. we be the same crew
Resurrection in the game here to save you
[Flava Flav]
Yo it's going down baby, it's going down family
That's my word
We gettin ready to turn this shit to the two and three zeros
Ya know what I'm sayin
Have all the clocks goin backwards
Have everything goin haywire
You lauged before let's see you laugh now blue cow
How now black cow
Word to bird, word to bird, word to bird, n***a

[Verse 2: Chuck D]
One on one, hard like tarot cards
Behold, the one man million man march
Takes a nation, 400 year violation
Apocalyptic no power in this happy hour
Hazardous, no you don't like lazarus
Just black baby
Where my soul be at
Star spelled backwards is rats
Let bra man rap
I'm trapped in the back with these industry cats
One step forward two steps back
Making habits claiming habitats
Ratta tat tat
Wish you could turn back the hands of time
And get mental
Pop the track eight track Lincoln Continental
I'm the mouth that roared, swore to the Lord
The eye of hawk, both live and die by the sword
The forbidden
The six man be sinning from the beginning
The suckers hand be hidden
Knocking your block with some sense
P.E. got more jewels than dead presidents
The devil try to get me cross like a crucifix
But I am focused on the vultures like a loc of locusts
New world order is goin' down
Gettin round, I'm the spook that sat by the sound
Fucking with Saddam will bring a new Saigon
Ain't nothing changed, P.E. we be the same crew (boy)
[Flavor Flav]
Yeah that's right, 9-8, no joking
We coming out smoking
And for all y'all that's been sleeping on us
You're lacking you're lacking
Aiyyo, check 1-2
I've got my mand that's about to sneak up on you and your crew
Ya know what I'm saying
Check 1-2
Aiyo Masta Killa I want you to put one up in 'em son
And show 'em you ain't done son
Ball 'em with the back of the gun son, make 'em run son

[Verse 3: Masta Killa]
Sliding down Broadway beneath the J line
Slumped in the incline position
Mind travellin beyond the shell
Which holds the soul controlled by the Allah
I be most humble but also punishable
For those who are unlawful to righteousness
I strive to stay alive and live this
Many fell victim to the wisdom
I mastered this
The track ovulates the mic like prostate gland imperegnates
Onto the paper the pain pours
For the love of my brother that hurts just the same
Fuck fame
My gun I bust to maintain
Moods are insiduous
Baffels and eludes those who label the God being anti-social
Chose not to apply their third eye
I travel at the speed of thought rate
It's fatal
What will enable a man to levitate
[Flavor Flav]
And you can take that and put that on the back of your brain
Coming straight to you from Masta Killa
Ain't nothin' iller
I told you PE is still in full effect beyond the year 2000
We ain't taking no shorts and y'all need to know that to make your head fat, boy