"So f*ck the commercial tracks you be doin'"
"A brother got to eat"
"Yeah? Why don't you rap for food then?"
[Verse 1: Deacon & (Kno)]
The music makes me high
Even though I stay away from canibus like Wyclef
(Deacon and Kno fry sets)
Similar to Christ (we got divine reps, so tell me)
If you know your gwan die (why step?)
Show no mercy (when bruising crews)
You get hit with more bricks than New Jerus
(Riddles confusing fools) like Confucian rules
(Cause most cats are more squared than Rubik's Cubes)
We spit raps that are totally murderous
(The rhymes are like an anaconda serpent clutch)
So check out how these herbs get touched
(Unless your broads giving us brains), n*gga you ain't servin us
(Deacon and Kno), cunning lynguists with stunning English
(Our true lies break more punks than) Harry Renquist
(Every week) with the best speech
Roll with cats who smoke more trees than the slash and burn techniques
(Sex beats between bed sheets)
Red fleets, Pulp Fiction style, (leaving your car with red seats)
We make like fly swatters and smash pests
(Put peeps under more pressure than a Kelly Price bed set)
Keep your bodies looking like samples for the Rorscach Test
(Ink blots), so f*ck around and get your team rocked
(Jugga's in the back with the beam c*cked)
The plot's to have everything between L.A. and Queen's locked
Uh huh, word, uh huh word
Yo, yo, check it out
You know what I'm sayin'?
Ya'll know how we do?
I mean... you probably don't know how we do (ha)
But you about to find out
Like what? Like what? Like what? Yo... yo
Like what? Like what? Check it. Uh huh...