[Intro: Christbearer]
Yo, yo... yo - yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo

[Christbearer]
Meet God in the marquete design
In Toshibi odd squad, G, it's eighth and poverty
With me, I hone this art, set it off like Napoleon Bonaparte
By boarding Noah's Arc, I spit too rough breaking down buildings
And pounds off them come arounds, like Bob Dylan's
Christbearer, put the D in dope
A west side rider on the boat kaleidoscope
Loc', play pussy, get fucked
I had to put my chuck out yo' ass
Off the deeply covered gash
At last, Christbearer, came coming
So nice, he left the microphone humming
For the guy, the had to summon
I take over like big bad weather
And formulate a style like art leak leather
Christbearer in the five line sequel
Where it's bout what you know, so fuck what you think
I'm writing rhymes, cuz I gotta get paid
Although every single line I concoct I drop a J
Off the top, I cannot be stopped
Lacing bar after bar, after bar, with a paradot
Who getting money? Who off the chain?
Who taught us, holster gun, you with a name
One of the most gallantly grave, the radio wave
Of crystal praise phrase, in the time flashed day, Christbearer

[Chorus 2X: Christbearer]
Tell Mary not to weep, and Martha not to moan
David killed Goliath with a stone
Samson grew his hair back and made a pillar crack
On me, Christ walked on the LBC

[Timbo King]
Yo, I use fighting words, the type of words, to start riots with
Guns fired quick, right by your click, son, tie ya shit
Nickel plated, triple seven rated, heaven made it
Smoked a burning bush, all love elevated, yo
Big fish, eat little fish, yo King Pisces
I'm spitting bonton chips, Italian icies
Corner style, green garbage can, blue mailbox
You sell rocks, we got marbles, designer goggles
Royal blood, thicker than water, I'm dickin' yo daughter
Old man, make her queen, then send her back to the old lands
West days, you fucking West 24th and Broadway
Fuck her in a hallway, who wanna rhyme, I work it back
The flies up, here's five, what, yo, 3-0-9

[Chorus 2X]

[Meko the Pharaoh]
Bitches on my dick like I'm Elian
Meko the man of a mill-ion
Platinum filter shit that generates buildings
Been on the land for trillions
Long Beach native, hate if you wanta
Tell Roger City, have ya girl come and warn ya
Cuz, ain't no rhyme like the one I got
We smoke pot, blow spots, then close ya shop
Then I make you get trained, cuz life ain't a game
I told my brother Ryan, the same damn thang
Now we bang the truth, knocking lying n***as down to the roof
Watching Northstar bear fruit
Earthquake thoughts, I talk, nobody move
It's kinda fucked up how the world's being ruled
A light that shines and never go out
You cowards burnt out, and been turned out
I switchblade n***as that choose to be rude
Long Beach dude, your language been used, Northstar

[Chorus 2X]