[Ludacris]
(Intro)
YEAH! Ludacris in this muthafucka
What up Talib
Disturbing tha Peace Godamnit
We just getting started
Mixtape style it goes like this, look here:

Now Ludacris out the gate and damn it it's hunting season
When you shot remember everything happens for a reason
And you never hit it right: that's why I'm snatching your girl
She calls me Mr. Drummond - cause Diff'rent Strokes rule the world
I got a, thirst for knowledge and a appetite for drama
Or appetite for destruction, and a thirst for your mama
Either way I keep it going 'til that thang is empty
Been nice since Mike Tyson punched Soda Popinski
Chicks keep getting stung cause they're all in my swarm
Plus I step in they dorm and get more cheers than Norm!
It's 2004 the world needs more lesbians
And more drunk drivers, to hit drunk pedestrians
They walk around here with two left feet
But warm milk and cold gat'll put yo ass to sleep
I'm in these streets still no matter how ugly it seems
Long as I got on my bulletproof Buddy Lee jeans

[Talib Kweli]
Kweli and 'Cris
N***as never heard no shit like this
Yeah, I got your chick feeling moist
You coming softer than an ad in the back of the Village Voice
You still a toy
The cops is still the boys
They trying to get me to vote by saying the lesser of two evils is still a choice
Well maybe or maybe not
N***as rhyming like they got 80 Glocks
You home watching I Love the 80's - STOP
Picture the ocean with the panoramic view
My flow the iceberg that the Titanic ran into
Ooh I, rock like suicide victims who wear flannel
While your rhymes sound like they was written by Clear Channel
I used to, drive through 50 states and hear 50 flows
Now every city knows the same song, It's just a game of pimps and hoes
And the kids think the key to get down in the game
Is to copy the hot n***a and start sounding the same
Now you trying to be heard but your shouts is in vain
Cause you drowned out by the buzz that's surrrounding my name, you lame
The mic is something that you can't pry from me
Shout out to I-20
Sha my rhymes is good money
Whether rollin' with Achmed and Dervin swerving the street
To where Chaka Zulu, Shawnna and Luda Disturbing tha Peace
I murder the beat
I'm the nightmare that recur in your sleep
My word is the flesh like the wafer that the nun got the converted to eat
They say he's the lamb of God herded the sheep
A whole flock of followers, n***a do you believe?
[The Game]
Yo what's poppin' it's the kid Game
And my n***a Ludacris
My homeboy, my dawg, my brother from another mother, Talib Kweli
And this is how we do it man, hate it or love it

Yes who fresher than I?
'didas red and black lumberjack 45 in his Levi's
Yeah since knee highs
I watched Easy E rise
Put LA on illmatic but they ain't believe Nas
Now it's '96 in the Jeep high
Ta told me they don't believe you start writing rhymes after B-I-G died
Eyes puffy, some n***as saying fuck me
Cause I'm from the west, I'm fresh and I idolize Doug E
Now NY hug me still n***as want to hate
I'm embraced by 50 states and the westside love me
Bids[?] told Dre I'm the n***a to chase
And it been that way since the beef with Jigga and Mase
And my Chuck Taylors red ones with the phat laces
Tan khakis desert eagle with the hollow tip laces
Fresh white tee, yellow rocks in my necklace
Real gangstas drink 40 ounces for breakfast
I eat Fatburgers three times a day
So fuck you if don't like the red paint on my six tre'
I was born in the hood, I be who I be
And me and Kweli is like Mack 10 and WC