[Intro: Murs]
Let's do it
Ah-ah, ah
Ah-ah, ah
Uh-huh, hah, uh, ha
Ha-ha-ha-ha, ha

[Verse 1: Murs]
You didn't think me and El was comin' like this
Def Jux, motherfucker, and we run this shit
Got you all up on your keyboard stunnin' and shit
Oh, you got a couple jokes, now you funny bitch? (Ha-ha)
And we laughin' all the way to the bank
On point in the cut, like we holdin' a shank
Got it all up on ya back, now you walkin' a plank
Try to do it like this, bitch, you drawing a blank
Do it double-time all up in your face
Like piranhas when you drop fresh meat in the tank
Fell off in the game, can't keep ya rank
Mad 'cause you try to rap shit, but you ain't
Been around no real shit where crews peel clips
N***as that kill for fun
Wanna talk that ill shit, sayin' how you kill shit
Bullets still in ya gun
Kool-Aid in ya veins, so now you gotta change clothes
'Cause you pissed ya pants
Saw me Durango, said you wanna tango
Now, this is the dance
Where ya shoes at? Where ya crew at?
Claim you do gats, but you do rap
What, you gonna bust a verse right before the guns burst?
Push ya girl on the ground so that you can run first?
Now you 'bout to get rolled up, hold up, wait
Just an MC that was tryin' to make cake
Now you got a gun all up in ya face
All of a sudden found God like Run and Ma$e
Thought it'd be fun to front on tape
Now you wish you would have stuck to drum 'n' bass
But you had to be hard on the boulevard
When you never gangbanged a day in ya town
Try to be a manhunter, when the streets ain't a jungle
Jim n***a stop playin' around, lay it down...
[Chorus: Murs]
This is the dance!
You don't wanna be late, 'cause the moment won't wait
Better get your shit straight
This is your chance!
You don't have to be fake, with a heart full of hate just to try to save face
This is the dance!
You don't wanna be late, 'cause the moment won't wait
Better get your shit straight
This is your chance!
You don't have to be fake, with a heart full of hate just to try to save face
This is the dance!
You don't wanna be late, 'cause the moment won't wait
Better get your shit straight
This is your chance!
You don't have to be fake, with a heart full of hate just to try to save face
(Yeah, right)

[Verse 2: Murs & El-P]
Murs fall up in the spot like "what up, bitch?"
Approached by this girl like, "shut up, bitch"
Than I grab the microphone and I cut up kids
Like a hot knife straight through a butter stick
Now I'm in the spotlight 'bout to rock all night
Shot of tequila, then a hot mamacita
Who said she know to swallow 'bout nine margaritas
Body on point so I follow the leader
Need more tequila so I swallow the liter
How can the night get sweeter? (Can't)
So I passed out, woke up, do it again
Oh, Netherworlds told y'all crew "in to win"
High velocity, high viscosity, slippin' right past your animosity
Fans are constantly askin' me "who said what?" and "who has beef?"
My crew got stuck in rumours deep
So we try to weigh it out with the truth laid out (Stomp the bastard)
That shit's played out, there's more to your life than underground rap
What you waste all ya time and you wanna run it back?
All on the message board runnin' your yap
At the end of the night, only wanted to chat
Now you know that you got issues
That early in the morn', you should look at some porn
And jack off right in the tissue
Then call it a night, that's probably the life
Go to sleep with the girl that you callin' your wife
Wake up to the same shit, different day
Everybody onto work and they on the way
'Cause we all got bills and rent to pay
Lend to the Earth, wasn't meant to stay
So before I get gone, tryna make a hit song that'll always get some play (Right)
Got the homey El-Producto lurkin' in the cut, so, what you got to say? (Yo, yo, it's like this)
[Verse 3: El-P]
You wanna trace along the pattern of fair, please rap
I wanna pattern how the drunk end mechanism I.D. jury breath commence fresh
Test the match, metal on the chestplate tech
Better win a smile right, on a foul night, die right
With a highlight primal fright in the prime of life, with a double ox razor blade fade like '88
It's the revenge of the wits and laser face, oh, great (Two, three)
God to analog monkey not me rock hard and shit
The radio flyer kid, flyin' with a boombox packed wit' clips
Faggots wanna rat-ta-tat-tat at this
In a PT cruiser, he grieves lucifer
Here comes the booster bruiser, better get used to losin' movement
They couldn't move like El, Ox, Murs, Lif, or Bazooka Tooth did, so useless
So useless tip that'll have a little truth in it like (Poof)
Deep space nine milli mechanism just raised the roof again
Who stays on a move that says
Tricky with a shake ring catapult, crawl through the trenches
Revelation manufacture, eat sentence, our city
Or compositive battle, torn logic pretty
All the hard acts, tomorrow brings heads or home up in me, come get me
I'm for this shitty dizzy spinning lawless constant progress, who's with me?
Fabulous thunder bird, word nerd, underdog, Tom Pill shit
Who heard kill quick
And innovative since '96, they still ride the dick
I refined the style with wild ways from an error with an automan mix
Community watch groups and lace young kids
Hit the road, skippy
I don't answer to you, George Bush or the wartime committee
Dumber than a mongulary race movin' shit
With a heart of hell scribblage, bruisin' shit
Every time you make a move in the industry, starts a new movement, kid
I'm not losin', bitch
Set the steam on the E with an edge of a generation new ruthlessness
Who's in charge, check into your new leader, man, stop the foolishness
Cop the new shit, bitch