[Intro: Mr. Voodoo]
Yo, check it out, yo. Itās Mr. Voo, knowām saying? Repping for my man Eddie Ill, my man D.L., knowām saying? We gonā 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 aināt 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 āVille scooping ya
Ladies and cheese ācause your pimping skills
Compared to mine [?], miniscule
The premise still blessing mics, black cuties, and mamis
This rap shitās 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 ācause they into it
Pussy getting soaked ācause Iām hot when Iām inniment
The crowd raising hell for what, punk? Iāve giving it
A hundred and ten percent of acid. Iām spitting it
At you. Brand your skin, so fuck a tattoo
Bitch or a n***a, Iāma fuck you and blast through
Your frame. Like nonveterans, insane
They seen the light. Motherfucker, Iāma show you the same
Just so their life isnāt 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 occupantāno balance beams
Circle rates predominant like family genes
It seems to me youāre not ready for what Iām giving
āCause youāre still caught up on bullshit that youāll be spitting
Stroking it and bite your dick, finger up your asshole
Flossing? Fuck that, my n***a. Iām about
Robbing the malnourished minds, which havenāt yet flourished
Enough to reach my, my own. Thatās why Iām 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]
Iām standing six-foot-one. Dark-skin, smooth brother
Knee-deep up in your womenās 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 theyāre 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 contentās always sexual
They try to dog me and say my mind is demented
But Iām 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
Donāt front to be American or someoneās 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 āBreathā like Iām Prodigy
Understand the entity. I rock the front rows, the back
The side, inside of balconies. Youāve 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 theyāre losing. Donāt talk about your checks
Let your Lex do the talking. You skylarking n***as who
Be acting like theyāre robbing. Alright, boy. Iāll give you
āOne More Chanceā like Iām Biggie. Thereās no doubt the Chizzy
Will leave a stain on your brain, some maps, and some panties
So understand that [?] always follows me
While Iāll 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 couldnāt be seen
Without the Dramamine, Iām ready to put emcees to sleep
Like a bad nightmare. Yo, me and Shadow never fight fair
The name of my crewāll be Old World Disorder. Ready for
The warfare. You get tore here up in my circle
My stratosphere. Whoās rapping here, asking me where the actionās 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, āGam.ā I meant to say
āSkam.ā I jump in the jam. Aināt got no formal plan
Left hand, whatās the matter? Why you making signals?
I got to pass it
[Interlude 3: Skam]
Yo, what? Aw. Yo, check it out. My manās about come on. Yo
[Verse 6: L.I.F.E. Long]
Aight, yo, check. Right after my man Skam, Iāll be the man
Verbally expand. Verses be Underground like Tubman
Yo, Iām twice as ill as a sick schizophrenic. Iām energetic
I seek weak emcees out with mental telekinetics. I
Be telepathic, I seek m-m-many emcees out
They canāt even understand how I be winning mad lyrical bouts
Iām like a Cub Scout scouting through the area, causing mass hysteria
Iāll 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 canāt even see me
You canāt even see the flows and, no, I donāt have no LP
Or no CD yet, but Iāll still catch wreck. Iāll push wigs back
Like a PEZ candy top from back in the days
I amaze and āBlazeā like The Arsonists single. Cats put on your single
And then cats jingle. Or should I say they mingle?
You canāt even see me when I come through this track and
Hang emcees from ceilings like fixtures. Iāll pop out like pictures
Iām 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. Iām 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
Iāll break emcees down. When I verbally attack, I smack
Put emcees on their back with animated stacks like Jack
You canāt even see this styleāIām out of the circumference. Itās like the
Deepness of the abyssāyouāll 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. Iām wiling
Verbally styling. I pop flows inside microphones
Like cats do tokens in a turnstile. Iām wild
Like water rapids. Iāll make stuff happen like fingers snapping
Got your toes tapping, heads bobbing up and down in a circular motion
You canāt 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, whoās next to grab the microphone?
Iāll spin around with flows like a cyclone