[Verse 1: Kool A.D.]
Yo yo yo yo...
And it go a little something like this

Kill me, I'm a loser baby
Filthy I'm a truther tasting filtered water juices
Maybe still I ought to choose a daily pill
To calm the spooky crazy ills
That cause the euthanasical
Way too amazical
Who they?
You don't want to fool with the razor, dude
Shoot like the laser do
You don't wanna see them when they swoop in the laser-blue coupe
They get paid to scoop fools who break the school rules
But still break a few, too
Which they paid to do-wait, who's paying who?
Who's paying you?
How much do they got?
Would you do the same if you were standing in they spot?
Sometimes I'm way cold
Sometimes I'm way hot
Sometimes I run down punchlines
And play Dr. Coochie Inspector
Instead of doing what is usually best
For all those mutually invested in whatever situation
Fools be getting salty for the cheddar and the bacon
Reverses, [?] what's the diff, and who's making it the business to say so
Kids sniff the payload
The answer is under your nose
The dancer, the thunder, the gold
Panther, the hunger, the cold
Cancer, the young and the old
Chance that the [?] your soul is probably the one you should keep
Yo, you started with two, dog
You don't need to lose any sleep
Nightly news can repeat
Mighty crews can retreat
Shit get foul like the Chris Lighty suicide, B
And I don't really know the half
Understand me, I'm the man behind the photograph
Sniff powders that fold my soul in half
So they can't snatch all of it
See me in the trees like how koalas get
Peep my oeuvre
You don't need to like all of it
But understand
That it's broader than the oeuvre of a lot of cats [Busdriver: Yeah]
You got all that?
[Busdriver] I gotta this
Yadadite
[Verse 2: Busdriver]
Heh... c'mon

My gun is picky
It exclusively dates blondes and accepts film roles only opposite of James Bond
I get shouted out by Raekwon all day long
[?] under the strap of a beige thong
Gunsmoke ain't supposed to smell like mocha chips
When I load them with explosive-tip rounds I kiss the butts of Russian soldier lips
They roam the [?]
What follows in Zumba class
White women, J. Crew catalogs
And a looking glass
I ain't talking rubber bullets
I'm talking Gumby bullets
Shot at dudes with ugly mullets
Straight at their [?] buttocks
Run all the way back to your mommy's stomach
I'm brandishing paper goods
Me and my gun
Canvassing neighborhoods
But my gun wants to do more humanitarian work
Delivering preemies, leaving a cesarean smirk
On the single mothers
Yet, still get chips like Pringles lovers
Instead of smoking n***as
Like a navel fucker
My gun can shoot dudes
Troll them with just a web address
In People's magazine, my gun gets voted the best dressed
My gun's leaving the Doubletree shortly
Wearing a muscle tee, looking portly [?] wax with WD-40
My gun's important
For real
[Verse 3: Beans]
Yo, it's Mr. [?] your butler to Beans
Face front
True believer, ceremony deadly ecstatic frenzy
Breakneck pace
Defy eyes
Overlord [?]
A distinction with difference
Accelerant, excellent
Scripted, encrypted
[?] where homicidal eyes
You burning lower than [?]
It's clear as day
Your skill set's no threat
Mine fantastic
Ultra-decapitor rap shit
Catch my sick hex
[?] straight lines like a funeral procession
Put you in the past easily, sufficiently
I freak an MC
While you find comfort in your [?] ability to disappoint
Nauseating how your every sentence syllable leaves sulfur
And seeps sewage
Your sentences are sluggish and move like they was sleeping
Weak beyond redemption
Prior to demise when the truth puts its pants on
Heart flutter like hummingbird from trepidation
Sobbed on the page and still wet from the piss
So desperately he reach for the razor blade
Had a situation
Look bleak, like Little Big Horn
Obliterate your cavalry
Mercilessly you and the dam burst [to flood?]
Release without hesitation
Hilariously, you outgunned
Clouds of war gathering
Prisoner of your own illusion
Sorry for the intrusion
Devour the flock
Blasteroid
The four nightmares
We the dance of death fetishists
And not every thought's gold
So let your panic unfold
[Sample]
There is no one way to approach this
There is no system or method
And there can't be, because we're- we're working with someone's um, individual creative process
And when you do that, if you have a pre-set method, or a system, that you know about, that's separate from that
It won't work
The best thing that you can get is someone who can, uh, give back to you... the material that you have given to them
But that's not spontaneous improvisation
I should say that... spontaneous improvisation to me... means that you create music right in the split second that you're in
Spontaneously, that is, you let it come from what you hear and feel, rather than from what your brain is telling you
Like you're not playing the suggestions and ideas that your brain can give you
You are getting away from that, and letting the music stream out of your, um, creating mind
Um, the thinking mind can only be an impediment, actually
You have to- one of the things you have to learn is to um, develop the ability to- to- let your creating mind have the entire moment, and all the music will be coming from that part of your mind