[Verse 1: Vast Aire]
I’m Vishnu Allah I’m on my din
And so his he that’s Lord Hakim
Yeah it took a few seconds to draw up the scheme
We the Moorish Gods yeah that’s the team
We puff the magic to let off steam, like Marcus Garvey
These dudes is godly
And in another Life I was Rastafari
In the life before that wrote the Code of Hammurabi
Hey I’m like Cassius clay
My queen told me we should mold men into clay
Yeah now I’m Muhammad Ali
I bob and weave you can not hit what you can’t see
Yeah I was blessed with the 3
The A, B, C‘s the A to Z’s
We looking for moons that got the cheese
When I sneeze I give life to galaxies

[Verse 2: Lord Hakim]
N***as better bob & weave like hood rat hoes in hair shops
Trust me, Its n***a-saki the second the record drops
Got that true Hip Hop like vinyl in record shops
These new school dudes is faker than movie props
Easy Hops, you ain't trying to get your snot box popped
Nah I suggest you muthafuckas kick rocks like beat cops
Fam, lay hands like the man with seven wounds
Square true, spit sharp from the heart to sever dudes
Sample tunes, type to hack a track to death
With cut & stabs like my lab the last house on the left
A golden era terror blatant skill on wax
Bitch I'm sick, I central park jog on a track
Spit that brass knuckle rap, impact a spinal tap
Bring your playing to an end like death in the final act
Its an actual fact The Son Of Man show & prove
Nah man fuck them dudes I live what you listen to
[Verse 3: Phizz Ed]
You got me twisted like wesely in to wong foo
Ya'll two wrong dudes steppin to a n***a who will fuck up ya whole crew
What ya'll the mascots, for the fagots
In ascots, finna get that ass molly whopped
N***a please ease back
Before you get jack smacked with the same hand that was just on my nut sack
Vast, Lord Hakim and Phizz Ed music dot com
Got you worrying about your mom
Face it, she in the basement
Wondering where her face went, n***as is complacent
Even when they ain't done shit
I'm hungry like a crack addict
All ways chasen that next hit, no bull shit
That's why I spit, like a callico
This is 1 shot and I got 99 to go
So hold your head bro, as i bestow
A flurry of flows, for you funny actin rap bitches and you snoot booty negroes
Who turn up they noes, some bros
Be tatted up, we chat it up
Get to hanging n***as like the klu klux
You dumb fucks, you dumb schmucks
Go on and pluck the strange fruit
I put on my shit kickers before I give wack n***as the boot