It’s the sound of science.
It’s the sound of science.
And if you want beef, then bring the ruckus.
You think that you can front when revelation comes?
I bomb atomically, Socrates’ philosophies and hypotheses can’t define how I be droppin’ these mockeries.
No sleep ‘till Brooklyn.
Sit right back and hear a tale of a hustler ’round my way.
Another dimension, new galaxy, intergalactic planetary.
‘Cause you can’t, you won’t, and you don’t stop.
Move swift as light, a thousand years in one night, in flight with insight.
Ooh la la la, it’s the way that we rock when we’re doing our thing.
Now gone off the mental plane, to spark the brain with the building to be born.
Well, I’m a singer, dancer, we bulletproof brothers. Wu-Tang got the answer.
Who’s house? Run’s house.
Dart clapper, ran like a snapper, watch out for Cappa.
Superbad, who am I? Dolemite classic.
Everybody let’s git doe.
Ain’t nothing gon’ stop kid from getting his due. No, your feets not big enough to fit in his shoe.
What is there to talk about? You was just frontin’, now it ain’t nothin’, ain’t that somethin’?
Beef is when I see you, guaranteed to be in ICU.
Represent represent.
My slang is editorial explicit material, briefcase yo, live in stereo flow.
In New York, the people talk and try to make us rhyme, they really hawk, but we just walk because we have no time.
My poems were found next to dinosaur bones, perform by the elders before the kings thrown.
This is it, what? Luchini pouring from the sky.
Five days you work, one whole day to play. Come on everybody, wear your roller skates today.
Hip hop just died this mornin’ and she’s dead, she’s dead.
Woke up in the morning, like ten A.M. Walked passed the Listerine, went straight for the gin.
Formed in a very strong advanced post, east to west coast, ahead of time, competition not even half close.
Yo, my words should never fail, shootin’ darts sharper than a carpenters nail.
I’m cool like dat, I’m cool.
PRhyme, PRhyme, I’m in my permanent prime, I ain’t never falling off.
I want leverage, ice cold beverage, money I can’t count, I blacked out standing on Mount Everest.
Dear New York, I hope you’re doing well. I know a lot’s happened and you’ve been through hell.
I’m shrewd about decimals and my man’ll speak patois, and I can speak rap star.
When you attack, I fall back in the wind like the lotus – put the soul in the track like my name was Otis.
Bass in your face, not an eight track, gettin’ it good to the wood so the people give you some a dat.
This is the point from which I could never return, and if I back down now then forever I burn.
In the hood, it’s against all odds, you spit 16 bars.
Don’t ask me, because I don’t know why, but it’s like that, and that’s the way it is.
Spotlight hits the metal mic, majority stare – heard the Wu snare, while my iris cut down the glare.
X gonna give it to you.
Watch your step, kid (yo, you best protect ya neck).
When they see me, they say, “Who dat ovah there?” Just a lil dude with a head full of hair.
Everybody wants to be a DJ, everybody wants to be an MC, but being speakers are the best.
Every hood that we go through, all the gangsters around know my whole crew.
Shimmy shimmy ya, shimmy yam, shimmy yay, gimme the mic so I can take it away.
It’s not a game – you play chess with life, end up in the flame.
Now I’m a start collecting props, connecting plots. Networking like a conference, ‘cause the nonsense is yet to stop.
The most duplicated, anticipated, validated urban legends in the books with the ones who made it.
Brothers front, they say the Tribe can’t flow, but we’ve been known to do the impossible like Broadway Joe.