Up in them five-star tellies, saying two mic rhymes

Be them average MCs of the times

Unlike them, we craft gems

So systematically inclined to pen lines

Without saying the producer's name all over the track

Yeah, I said it, what you need to do is get back

To reading credits, we them medics

Alphabetically stuck on that A-grade shit

Now quit now, before we pour

That sure shot pure rock cocaine flow

From the top of the key for three, villain

Been on in the game as long as he can wheelie a Schwinn

Turn the corner spinning, bust that ass and get up

Dust off the mask, whoever laugh, give him a head up

He got jumped, it pumped his adrenaline

He said it made him tougher than a bump of raw medicine

To write all night long, the hourglass is still slow

Flow from Hellborn to free power like Lilco

And still owe bills, paid dues forever

Slay youths when it comes to who's more cleverer

Used to wore a leather goose V with a fur collar

And charged a fee for loose-leaf, words per dollar

You heard, holler

Broad or dude, we need food

Eat your teams for sure, the streets sure seem rude

For fam like the partridges, pardon him for the mix-up

Battle for your atari cartridges or put your kicks up, it's a stick up

Now put your blicks up

These Riddick Bowe cuts-is fold like penile flicks, and give 'em 20

The danger in his eyes will let you know he's a brawler

Bring your tallest champs like that much taller (taller)

Ten pounds heavier, one step ahead of it

Vocab, stamina, style's all irrelevant

Camps and cliques, units, squad, crews and clans

Even your tongues'll fuck around and lose your mouth

Doom brung that bum, there goes that news van again

Act like you new like Toucan Samanam

He eat rappers like part of a complete breakfast

Their rhymes ain't worth the weight of they cheap necklace

String 'em up, ring 'em up, on your whack junk snack

And get that out your hand, punk, jump and get your dunk smacked

Foul, we all know the rules, bro you slow, you blow

The Super, you fools, his own boss like Hugo

You go lights, camera, action with no make-up

We De La to the death, or at least until we break up

Here's a couple of nice guys who finished first

So nice try, but the prize is ours, disperse

They say the good die young, so I added some

Badass to my flavor to prolong my life over the drum

Everyone cools off from being hot

It's about if you can handle being cold or not

And we was told to hop on no one's dick, by Prince Paul

We stayed original ever since, y'all

First to do a lot of things in the game, but the last to say it

No need to place it on a scale to weigh it

And don't do it for the praise, or to raise the bar

Yet it's raised anyway, so amazing, are

The three L.I. brothers from the other way of thinking

Hey, your lady's winking, I think you need to control that

Or I'll have to hold that

The elements are airborne, I smell the success

(Yo, let's cookie-cut this shit and get the gingerbread, man)

Sacrifice mics and push drugs to these rappers

Puff ponies 'til I turn blue in the lips

Sipping broads like seven-up (so refreshing)

I finger-pop these verses like first dates

The birthdate's September 2-1, 1-9, 6-8

Too old to rhyme, too bad, too late