Cipher Complete is blowin' East, West, North, and South, yo
(Check, check, check, check this out)

[Verse 1]
It's like one is for the gods, two is for the earths
Three is for the seeds to whom we give birth
Respects to New York, y'all did it first
But now we bout to show the world what Jersey's worth
Here's the facts, cats makin' pretty ass tracks
And I ain't goin' to relax till they bring back wax
All y'all frontin' ass labels who don't sign real acts
Now y'all know why so many of us blacks sling cracks
Wanna stop this? Sign me on your shit and let me drop this
Bet you make a profit, 'cause n***as gon' cop this
The way we used to do it, shit is stuck to it
N***as sound so R&B it sound like I could FUCK to it
I ain't tryin' to see this hip hop shit get vanished
Crossover n***as, y'all can eat a DICK sandwich
Rap is like a set up, KRS already told ya
Peace to real soldiers of this hip hop culture

[Chorus ×4]
We gotta
Bring hip hop back

[Verse 2]
Yo, now here's the verdict, all commercial cats gettin' murdered
These pre school raps in they songs are wrongly worded
[?]Some kids on the block asked a mutt said he's fat?
You couldn't make a sell if they pressed your shit on crack
Picture that, how the fuck you ever gon' blow
When you jump style to style tryin' to steal n***as' flow
And speak about Moet you ain't even sipped yet
How you trickin' on dimes but can't get your dick wet
I can't forget, these record labels seein' stats
Only sign a n***a if they glorifyin' black on black
Wsup with that? I can't understand why
Songs gettin' played nowaday be killin' my high
And it's official, y'all n***as frontin' that's the issue
And everytime you try to touch the mic I'mma diss you
N***as is sweet, surprised you gotta get hard
Bring your rap back like Wu did Wallabee Clarks
[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
Ayo, keep this thought, on your motherfuckin' mind
It's too many n***as seein' light who really can't shine
Y'all better get a grip, 'cause my shit tight thick
Electrifyin like the third rail did Ramone and Spit
N***as seein platinum hits, but ain't verbally fit
Gettin rich real quick offa some bullshit
It's like this, the devil got this whole game fixed
And that's the industry's rule number 666
Of this rap shit I will never let go, n***as is petrol
Of a slim n***a dipped in Ecko
A label shouldn't be a label if they don't let the best blow
I'm bout to knock y'all off the board like the game of chess go
Bring it back

[Verse 4]
To the real hip hop heads that battle for the dough
But now n***as spend years on gimmicks tryin' to blow
Posin' with gats, wearin' funny type hats
Playerlistic clothes tryin' to pose like the Mack
That shit is wack, I'm bout to knock you off the map
Your songs couldn't slam if you alleyooped to Shaq
So face the facts, the god's knockin' it down
Makin' sure by 2000 these cats ain't around
And it's feel, 'cause lyrically you gotta have skills
If I start namin' names n***as wouldn't have deals
And that's real, so next time you writin' your rhyme
Make sure you representin' hip hop in every line
[Chorus]

[Jeru sample]
"And we brought hip hop back home that night, one day"