Monsta Island Czars (ft. Kong, Rodan, Megalon, King Cesar, Kamackeris, King Geedorah, and Jet Jaguar) - “Run the Sphere (Original)”
[Emcee(s): Kong, Rodan, Megalon, King Cesar, Kamackeris, King Geedorah, and Jet Jaguar]
[Producer(s): Mr. Greedy and Grazzhoppa]
[Sample (Melody): Argent - “Dance In the Smoke”]

[Verse 1: Kong]
We got
The Glocks cocked, n***as stuck slow, fuck slow. Smack
The shit out ‘em, should have called Brickface and Stucco
“Uh oh!” like Maaco, some nickel pesos in the NY
Adore West, they fly flows and ask, “Kong, can I?”
Slash precise, I roll with Spice, caught a life, head
To Houston without Whitney—you could even ask the preacher’s wife
Blao, back ‘em up. Fuck the grammar—that’s word to kill
I dropped Evander ‘cause he’s standing on my Holyfields
Slash M-E-L, yo, K slash M-E
‘Cause emcees often envy the vocal style ten-deep
One two, mic check. Next one step up
Speedy K slashed, your fucking Heinz couldn’t Ketchup

[Verse 2: Rodan]
The world’s indictment of my
Mathematics made me a control freak—witness the foulest shit
And accurate calculus in every word I speak, geometric
Motion’s in every action I see. You got a mean streak? You ass
Like butt cheeks up shit’s creak, make your future bleak
Life on drunken binges. Wild maverick on the outskirts of
Society fringes, hanging onto the door of sanity by the hinges
Interdimension transmission transitions
Charge the heartless a dollar-and-a-half, buck fifty—that’s a facial cir-
-cumcision. Rest in peace, Big L, Big Pun, Biggie Smalls
Freaky Tah, and 2Pac. Allah blessed David Force
Family Haze, Tigger, Tony Mone, and DJ Subroc
Y’all snitching cow motherfuckers, suck a fat cock
[Verse 3: Megalon]
Streetlights
With cameras, I’ll walk the beat like Beast that can’t stand us. Hand-
-to-hand gram-handlers, scanners and scramblers, street-life
Gamblers, Tommy Mantana—word to nana—banana clips going
Bananas in the land of guzzle, bust holes in bandanas, snub-nosed
Blood on my clothes, cancer, lap dances, Black
Panthers, three dot branding us, street fights
With hammers, black and Spanish Zlatans and blacks with bad
Manners and bandages dance to this, bust hoes and mark
The cannons

[Verse 4: King Cesar]
I spit fast like whiplash when I dip class
My shit last like good stash, type of hype make your whip crash
Sniff coke and smoke grass, suck-dick and kiss-ass
Break glass and breakdance, break law and take chance. Yo, yo
Y-y-yo, exit, go to the next shit. It’s real
I’ll saw you into pieces like Richie Aprile
I’ll shit on you just like my fucking Loud deal
Introducing King Cesar with that dogface grill
Fifty meters tall, thirty-thousand tons
Representing full-circle for my Monsta Island duns

[Verse 5: Kamackeris]
We’re some underground brothers on a bubble. What you want?
Trouble? Have you underneath in the rubble, yo
I’ll drug you with these nicks, dime bags
And eight-balls. No mistake, y’all, we break y’all
All it is is a phone call—we’ll be right
There, shorty in the back know this thing ain’t
Fair, but we don’t care. Somebody should have
Let you know: we show love and, sometimes, yo
We let it go. It be harder than death row
While y’all n***as rhyming so-so, we cop divine
Dough
[Verse 6: King Geedorah]
It’s the one King Geedorah
The three who closed the deal for eleven million lira
She looked like Vera brother, she had the fatty but
An ugly motherfucker who stay up in the mirror forever
It’s all clever. Whatever floats your rowboat
Specialist in our ears, no stroke, the hoes vote
Bald-headed coochies to the hoochies with the titties that
Fall flat, people looking pretty and all that

[Verse 7: Jet Jaguar]
Quake
Beats like Earth with profanity and sanity
Musical exorcism haunting tracks like it’s Amity
N***as we’re burning, intentions affirming
As the beat rocks and we plot on competition
Mic’s a MAC-11, add the vocal ammunition, ass-
-whipping’s are dished to those who feel better
Get ‘em, we cock the mic back and then we wet ‘em
Brain-burner microwave thoughts like it’s Swanson
Fast learner accumulate units until it’s platinum
Defeat us? Come on, n***a, that shit ain’t happening
Fuck the rapping shit. Avoid me
‘Cause when I’m paranoid, motherfucker, I be capping shit
I’m mapping out shit, my man, plans to become
Millionaires before we disappear from this atmosphere