[Cockney “O” Dire]
Ladies and gentlemen, title match up here
Over here now in the little dibby-dibby corner
Is the lightweight, bantamweight, can’t test us
And in de big corner is heavyweights
Step through kay[?] great
And my name is Cockney “O” Dire and I first come through fire
But first, listen!

[Hook]
I hear the sound of the beat in the background
I hear the sound of the big fat beat
I hear the sound of the heavyweight beatdown
I hear the sound of the EQ beat
I hear the sound of the beat in the background
I hear the sound of the big fat beat
I hear the sound of the heavyweight beatdown
I hear the sound of the EQ beat
Give me an “F” (F!), give me and “R” (R!)
Give me a double “E”, “S-T-Y-L-E” (E!)
Give me an “F” (F!), give me and “E” (E!)
Give me a double “L”, “O-W-S-H-I-P” (P!)

[Verse 1: P.E.A.C.E.]
Mickey Mouse motherfucker!
Bringin' me under, sendin' me under, this is a freestyle
Moving while I’m under bring your mother down
To the solo bliss so watch my lips motherfucker!
[Verse 2: Cockney “O” Dire]
Certain MC’s get them flow from the radio
You know some poets get their flow from the biblioteca
Look at audio big body on de grace and can’t find
Them kinda rhymers in de park a make ya dizzy
You may think you other MCs sound the same on the crazy
You see the question answer, Cockney “O” Dire
Like a water to a melon and a melon to a vine
I’m not Shabba but I got the remedy for your mind
Description of the prescription for the fools that won’t quit
Constipated scare and stop the bullshit
Yo I’m done but wait
Here comes the next heavyweighter

[Verse 3: Torch]
Twenty-eight beats, twelve bars, three hundred and twenty milliseconds
For the wreck that I just suggested and left you questioned
How many sessions must I be blessing
The herbal essence is the best when your shit is kept in
With beautiful lessons I’m stressing the rest
The rest was long my alarm clock took care of the rest
I woke up to choke I broke the scope
To know the quotes of heavyweights and heavy coats
With leads of dope seven hundred and seventy-seven days away
I’m amazed to say, nobody pays to play
I got a fever and you called us paramedics
All of them tryna find out where your head is, heavyweights!
[Interlude: Cockney “O” Dire]
Break it up, break it up boys, ok now listen up good
I want nobody hitting below the belt
I don’t want no biting anybody’s rhymes
I want you to keep it clean
Now go back in there and mix it up
And come out stylin’!

[Verse 4: Big Arch]
I’m an emcee and I’m in when when the rhythm is given
I'm choppin-it-up and choppin-it-up again
It’s never just me and my sin, represents the [?] nemesis
Choppin-it-up and choppin-it-up again
I’m stylin’ till they say, when I when I violent type sway, hey
Back pain, there’s gotta be a better way out than the lottery
The odds of me hittin’ are one in a million
Don't need to be keepin’ myself in a hell filled with fantasy wealth
I’m choppin-it-up I'm stylin’, choppin-it-up I'm stylin’
Choppin-it-up I'm stylin’ again
With the [?] gold or global war to swordfight bite
[?] attack [?] singing and swinging the battle axe

[Verse 5: Volume 10]
Raised in the hood but so what?
All about the props you got to get so get ‘em up
Bold motherfucker straight from LA, jack
Ain’t pushin’ no daisies, n***as gotta hacked
Nightly, daily, even on holidays
With my men claims bodies nowadays
Quicker than the white man did, look what you did
Twisted my style you ain’t got much time to live
Tired of [???] if you got my back
Matter of fact it might be you come off the jack
Timber, timber[?] all of them must rhyme
Catch me as I clean, watch me as I climb
[Verse 6: Myka 9]
[gibberish]
Is this really making sense to me, Myka 9
Seems to be, heads be [gibberish], wait
Wait a minute, you shouldn’t touch me yet
I jump by the radio metro proof, I might go [gibberish]
Ooh, ooh uh-huh yea I can do that too, brute!
Send you with strength, rebels Tasmanian
Jasmanian micrified mic will freeze microphone appreciate, shazam
Every sucker DJ's start urinating in their dun-da-duns
So wicked and the waiting the drum to come
How ill so chill, also go home, boy
Maybe sock you in your grill!

[Interlude: Cockney “O” Dire]
Alright, break it up, break it up boys and come in here
I wanna explain the rules to you
I want none of this, none of-, none of this-
None of this, none of-, and none of that!
(Yo couch, but I don’t know what to do)
Snap out of that boy, snap out of it
Those heavyweights will knock you to tomorrow, Rock!

[Verse 7: Self Jupiter]
I’m a mastermind of a disaster sign
Coming near racketeer interfere bastard’s swine
It'll appear rhyme travel is a motherfucker whooka-whucker
Teardrops falling on my
Got a headache, got a glitch
Glitch, glitch, glitch in my neck
Shake rattle n roll, down below, wanna know
Are you single
To mingle, bilingual believe in the emerald ring-o tingle, jingle slogan's
Summoned by the King-o queen o bingo Hogan’s Heroes
Zoro swinging from the trees mysteries tomorrow
Well he's a jolly good skeezer
Scallywag skank gank thank you, I'd like to drink you, drank you Aren't you the person who I think you are
I thought I shanked them all..
Stall, stall

[Verse 8: Spoon (of Iodine)]
Style messiah hot like a volcano with fire
Iodine uttering idioms syllables synonym words
Criminals die [?]
[?] for the sake of [?]
Rhetoric [?] leeches biting [?]
How many suckers left, give you virtual files of death
So wax that ass, it’s Russian rouletting
Me my double-F Freestyle Fellowship heavyweights
Looking for [?] watch your snakes
The studious ludicrous idiots
[?] all dark in the skies with your [? rashes]
Look in my eyes till you [?] vibe
[?] goodbye

[Verse 9: Aceyalone]
Excuse me pal, is that your style?
Pick it up and put it in your pocket now
Put it down, I’ll take it to the lost and found, look
Your peeing on yourself seeing me style in the mirror
'Cause I’m you, you don't get it do you?
Can I take a deep breath
*inhale*
Maybe I should rap like this
Exhale, one time
*exhale*
Breathing functions fine say G is it me or did you pee
Oooweee!
Out of my mind design
Define my E-Y-E

[Verse 10: Ganjah-K]
Chronic!
Now lay me down to sleep, I pray to the Lord my soul to keep
And if I should die before I wake, I pray to the Lord my soul to take
My mind and my heart, my soul and my body parts
Take my whole anatomy, can it be real a sequel
One individual lyrical prose
Stalkin’ and walkin’ the ghettos
Smokin’ and funkin' the afros
Takin’ the wack foes
Kickin’ the black bros down
In the game when you gain you maintain your grip
When the name of the game is to obtain the clips
Physically fit, what’s the orthodox
Rush the xerox, paradox to stop the wicked conspiracy
With my nine millimeter, a Glock and the MAC-10
Watch for my partner John (Yo Doctor Bombay!)
[?] parmesan, my legacy lives on!
My legacy lives on!

[Outro]
'Cause we all heavyweights