[Verse 1: A-Plus]
Yo, move over bacon 'cause the swine is out the picture
Switch the mixture, fix your eyes on the Mister
Twisting necks, fixing bets when I'm cheatin'
Getting many skins 'cause I've been down with eatin'
Ever since the clever hits I heard never work
I used a Louisville Slugger for a sucker
Duck a, little bit faster than the last men
That have been up to Astor Ave., and then
Ask him how the Souls of Mischief beat 'em into the soil
I'm cooking up your brain, feel the pain (until it boils)
Over the pot but you ain't got one to piss in yet
If you got a question, and it's "Am I dissing?" Yep
I can energize if you're -ready like Ever was
I'm ready as I ever will be, so chill, G
Will the filthy dirty rotten scoundrel step?
If he does, then we can beat him to the ground and jet
Most say, I'm the nicest person you'll ever meet
Then fools step, but they slept on my clever treat
One handy bat that's made of light steel
Break a bone in two, and they just might heal back
I wanna get a little piece like Reese's
But brothers are mad because Ad' is the feces
So A-Plus may just play Willie Mays
And you better get wise until Met really pays
[Chorus: Souls of Mischief]
It's like this and-a, it's like that and-a
I've got a Hieroglyphics baseball bat and-a
It's like this and-a, it's like that and-a
I swing a Hieroglyphics baseball bat and-a
It's like this and-a, it's like that and-a
I've got a Hieroglyphics baseball bat and-a
It's like this and-a, it's like that and-a
I swing a Hieroglyphics baseball bat and-a

[Verse 2: Tajai]
There's a rooster on my shoulder, can I kill it?
How can I maintain pain, blame a pan or skillet
That's swung on the misty streets, all in a night's work
Flights work but you can keep my feet warm too
Ooh, you know I Gots to Laugh like Cas did
Bad kids are blinking like "Curses! I'm worst!"
Your Spidey-sense may tingle
But my swing filled your head with cobwebs, so wake up, sleeper
Slimly constituted yet I boot it and bruise some
And flights just might get a tad bit gruesome
Who's dumb enough to get stuck with the pitchfork?
Rich give me name brands and main mans call me Mork
'Cause I've got Mindy, to remove your Fendi
Why call the cops, I sacks them hoes like Ken G
Silhouette's seen, and the next thing's blackness
Attire robbery, or a kick from my Patricks
Hat tricks, with my hockey stick, or a hole in one
With a golf club and the soft love to run
A gun ruins fun like parents, and a hot one
Got one kid like me steppin' 'cause a weapon
Should be club-like, but them thugs like to blast
No sweatin', and Tajai can jet son like Astro
Ask no questions, lessen your cash flow
Fast roll, the task grows greater, later
[Chorus: Souls of Mischief]
It's like this and-a, it's like that and-a
I've got a Hieroglyphics baseball bat and-a
It's like this and-a, it's like that and-a
I swing a Hieroglyphics baseball bat and-a
It's like this and-a, it's like that and-a
I've got a Hieroglyphics baseball bat and-a
It's like this and-a, it's like that and-a
I swing a Hieroglyphics baseball bat and-a

[Verse 3: Opio]
Opio is no Pinocchio, I never fib, kid
Dib on your belongings when I'm longing for a new fit
I am quite cunning, never Running Man
And I stand with a bat in hand, man's firmly planted in the sand
Step to this, you'll sort of get swung on like a tire swing
Or batted like Babe Ruth, lose a tooth if you try to bring
Anger to the wrangler
You'll get strangled if you tangle with the terrible
Bid farewell to jewelry, the same goes for cash flows
Snatch those, catch those greenbacks
Swing bats to dingbats, I bring bats to knapsacks
Reggie Jacks' can't match the switch-hitter, get a fit or two
Split a few lips when I flips a pitch like Cy Young
Die young, never ever try one
Soul is one that's mischievous, I'll twist your wrist so why son
Did you disrespect the father figure in your Rolex?
So head and solar plexus compressed as I flex
Thugs hug my slugs sprung from the Ville of Louis
Through the, joint to the point of pressure and then smoothly
Slipped off your valuables, you're mad I pulled another heist
Smothered twice, thrice, I thrash men and mice
My soul lies in my bat, I am one with my Easton
Once I grip the handle, the vandal is released and
Visions of viciousness are carried out with tactics
Slapsticks, but never comedy, it's Batting Practice
[Chorus: Souls of Mischief]
It's like this and-a, it's like that and-a
I've got a Hieroglyphics baseball bat and-a
It's like this and-a, it's like that and-a
I swing a Hieroglyphics baseball bat and-a
It's like this and-a, it's like that and-a
I've got a Hieroglyphics baseball bat and-a
It's like this and-a, it's like that and-a
I swing a Hieroglyphics baseball bat and-a

[Outro: Souls of Mischief]
Ah shit! Hieroglyphics be tearing up shit!
Hieroglyphics is tearing up shit!
Hieroglyphics is tearing up shit!
Hieroglyphics be tearing up shit!
Batting practice! Batting practice!
Batting practice! Batting practice!
Batting practice! Batting practice!
Batting practice! Batting practice!
Batting practice! Batting practice!
Hieroglyphics!
Hieroglyphics!
Hieroglyphics!
Hieroglyphics!
Hieroglyphics!