[Intro: Mr. Voodoo]
Yo, check it out, yo. It’s Mr. Voo, know’m saying? Repping for my man Eddie Ill, my man D.L., know’m saying? We gon’ do it like this. Check it out. Check it out, one time. Check it out, yo

[Verse 1: Mr. Voodoo]
Ayyo, rappers want to battle but ain’t got the nerve
I step into the square and babble those fatal words
Once the target observed, I insert the clip and revert
To hitting anything that move. Mentally ill with the
Intent to kill crazy emcees. My flows like [?] to these
Baby emcees. The greatest in the ‘Ville scooping ya
Ladies and cheese ‘cause your pimping skills
Compared to mine [?], miniscule
The premise still blessing mics, black cuties, and mamis
This rap shit’s depressing like four more years of Giuliani
So I inhale a fume, selling wholesale doom
Undressing n***as quicker than Clinton in a hotel room

[Interlude 1: Saukrates]
Yo, keeping it Eddie Ill, stay on the D.L. Keeping it Eddie Ill and stay on the D.L. Keeping it Eddie Ill, staying on the D.L. This is Saukrates getting ill. Check it out

[Verse 2: Saukrates]
Illiterate. N***as getting schooled ‘cause they into it
Pussy getting soaked ‘cause I’m hot when I’m inniment
The crowd raising hell for what, punk? I’ve giving it
A hundred and ten percent of acid. I’m spitting it
At you. Brand your skin, so fuck a tattoo
Bitch or a n***a, I’ma fuck you and blast through
Your frame. Like nonveterans, insane
They seen the light. Motherfucker, I’ma show you the same
Just so their life isn’t sliced in vein/vain
I train n***as to go against my grain. Daily I rain
On motherfuckers like food from a plane
Welcome the nourishment, honey. Rice and peas is my name
[Interlude 2: Afrolistic and Saukrates]
Saukrates: Fuck it. Yes, sir
Afrolistic: Yes, sir
Saukrates: Fuck it
Afrolistic: What?
Saukrates: My n***a Afro
Afrolistic: Afro
Saukrates: Kick it one time
Afrolistic: On the M-I-Y. Check it out, one time. Hailing from the T-Dot
Saukrates: Will you go?

[Verse 3: Afrolistic]
Giving you nothing but dramatics, dynamic acrobatics
That feed the addicts who crave for lyrics that
Bounce like trampoline acts. Cutting the thread
Out the seams to penetrate through your bloodstreams
High-wire occupant—no balance beams
Circle rates predominant like family genes
It seems to me you’re not ready for what I’m giving
‘Cause you’re still caught up on bullshit that you’ll be spitting
Stroking it and bite your dick, finger up your asshole
Flossing? Fuck that, my n***a. I’m about
Robbing the malnourished minds, which haven’t yet flourished
Enough to reach my, my own. That’s why I’m burning
A hole in your sector like this ozone, so peep the lecture
And listen. To each his own texture. This is war, nothing lesser
I got ten on it. Get on it or get the fuck out my cypher
[Verse 4: Choclair]
I’m standing six-foot-one. Dark-skin, smooth brother
Knee-deep up in your women’s circle be my brothers
Underground in the gutters, submerged under the nonsense
Of happy cheers. Fronting with a crooked smile, I walk
Really-big-dick style to stick your girl and make her smile
When impotent n***as say they’re gonna fuck me up now
You need to understand paranormal land expands
People catching cockstands when I touch mic stands
Even pulling hair strands, you best believe I got
Lyrics up my sleeve. Little brother from the [?]
People always asking me why my lyrics so infectual
People asking me why my content’s always sexual
They try to dog me and say my mind is demented
But I’m not. Just a guy that is sex-oriented. If I
Said it, then I meant it. Never to front to be no favorite
Scribe my lyrics on the laptop and represent the T-Dot
Don’t front to be American or someone’s comparison
I hold my own, snatching up some chrome microphones
Get your style blown. [?] styles how I roll
Got more friends than foes. Take a “Breath” like I’m Prodigy
Understand the entity. I rock the front rows, the back
The side, inside of balconies. You’ve only seen the half of me
A glimpse from the ladies that be kneeling right in front of me
No need to [?]. Only sabotage my [?]
Or crack a Sprite, then strive. Sterile n***as start producing
Then they wonder why they’re losing. Don’t talk about your checks
Let your Lex do the talking. You skylarking n***as who
Be acting like they’re robbing. Alright, boy. I’ll give you
“One More Chance” like I’m Biggie. There’s no doubt the Chizzy
Will leave a stain on your brain, some maps, and some panties
So understand that [?] always follows me
While I’ll be standing Slick, looking cool with no Wallabees
[Verse 5: Skam]
Yo, Old World Disorder jumping like shorties on the mattress
I just got here. See, I went to the wrong address
Skating all around Queens. Things couldn’t be seen
Without the Dramamine, I’m ready to put emcees to sleep
Like a bad nightmare. Yo, me and Shadow never fight fair
The name of my crew’ll be Old World Disorder. Ready for
The warfare. You get tore here up in my circle
My stratosphere. Who’s rapping here, asking me where the action’s at?
Skam got lyrics flipping like Dominique Dawes
Without no drawers on the gymnastic mat. Picture that
Skam be coming/cumming ill sicker than Eazy-E
Used to be in the infirmary. Yo, rest in peace
To N.W.A. Yo, listen to what I say
Gam got lyrics that spray. I said, “Gam.” I meant to say
“Skam.” I jump in the jam. Ain’t got no formal plan
Left hand, what’s the matter? Why you making signals?
I got to pass it

[Interlude 3: Skam]
Yo, what? Aw. Yo, check it out. My man’s about come on. Yo

[Verse 6: L.I.F.E. Long]
Aight, yo, check. Right after my man Skam, I’ll be the man
Verbally expand. Verses be Underground like Tubman
Yo, I’m twice as ill as a sick schizophrenic. I’m energetic
I seek weak emcees out with mental telekinetics. I
Be telepathic, I seek m-m-many emcees out
They can’t even understand how I be winning mad lyrical bouts
I’m like a Cub Scout scouting through the area, causing mass hysteria
I’ll be a deadly disease, sort of like malaria
Inside of your area, causing pain, bringing forth the flows that explode
I spin around like a cyclone, maybe a tornado
I get vexed without the mondo. Cats can’t even see me
You can’t even see the flows and, no, I don’t have no LP
Or no CD yet, but I’ll still catch wreck. I’ll push wigs back
Like a PEZ candy top from back in the days
I amaze and “Blaze” like The Arsonists single. Cats put on your single
And then cats jingle. Or should I say they mingle?
You can’t even see me when I come through this track and
Hang emcees from ceilings like fixtures. I’ll pop out like pictures
I’m inside of scriptures. Peep the flows and sip the elixir
Of my mixture. It gets corroded. My lyrical styles exploded
Like, uh, missiles from a torpedo. I’m under
Beneath the ground like earthquakes and tremors, coming through
Off the track, right off the head like semen-filled jim caps when I rap
I’ll break emcees down. When I verbally attack, I smack
Put emcees on their back with animated stacks like Jack
You can’t even see this style—I’m out of the circumference. It’s like the
Deepness of the abyss—you’ll get caught up inside of my mist
I never rift. I just come through the track and burn you like a spliff
Yo, I do it like this when I be freestyling. I’m wiling
Verbally styling. I pop flows inside microphones
Like cats do tokens in a turnstile. I’m wild
Like water rapids. I’ll make stuff happen like fingers snapping
Got your toes tapping, heads bobbing up and down in a circular motion
You can’t understand my, my lyrical type potion
My devotion to this track and just to bless it with a rap
When I verbally attack, I sort of be like cavities
I keep everything in the up-and-down battles like New York gravity
I shatter mind frames like the glass on the window plane. Cats get slain
When I come through this track and flip them styles off the brain
So, yo, who’s next to grab the microphone?
I’ll spin around with flows like a cyclone