| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 1:32 | 
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| 2. |
| 3:54 |
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| 3. |
| 3:45 |
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| 4. |
| 3:45 |
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| 5. |
| 3:55 |
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| 6. |
| 4:19 | 
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Intro: (scratches) (Eminem)- "Shady!" (Eminem)- "that's me" (Mr. Eon)- "Iron Mic Trilogy" (Erik Sermon)- "back...with the flyest material" (Eminem)- "Sh....Sh....Shady!" (Eminem)- "that...that.....that's me" (Mr. Eon)- "Iron Mic Trilogy" (Erik Sermon)- "back with the...funky...beats" Mr. Eon: Packing the third eye rush you it's cyclopse They trade in their high tops for night sized white rocks Words in my right, they pass my left ear It's solid decked out write the books for next year Bear this grenade you got stuck like virgin Who that cat splurgin' instead or rehearsin? Tough guy, dj travi your high rise Looking more like ronald then the fuckin fry guys Go on uptown fucking senoritas In Taco Bell screaming "vivas gorditas!" Bring all your dogs i give em rabies They never had a chance i might chew up all their babies (Eminem: waaah!) Pope John Paul the second, brain like satan Have your vegan girlfriend cooking up bacon I'm obituite with that shit that you hit Slow my flick with ya cause mine to pick wit her Eminem: My nine is limpin ya six deep when i spray rounds Hit you with 12 shots in mid air and four more on the way down The eight straight strays to a kid's hair on the playground You lay down on a stretcher (Don't get carried away now!) No pun intended, snapped out of your whip And leave it un-attended before i whip out this gun and hit it Unless you want it dented with bullet holes any minute Cause i can leave your Infinite full of those even if someone's in it Snap the airbag, hit the corner and park it You wanted a market, i got her tied up in a chair and gag Bitches get smacked and grabbed by the hair and dragged Like cave-women, while i'm grave diggin' with Marilyn Man Mr. Eon: If you got a bowl of hash better cash it Dollar signs flashin' i'ma take the last hit Eminem: And if you're spitting whack shit on the microphone I'ma snatch it outta your hand so fast i'm gonna detach it Mr. Eon: If you got a bowl of hash better cash it Dollar signs flashin' i'ma take the last hit Eminem: I'm flabergasted off two tabs of acid Threw my baby's mother in a nap sack and latched it Mr. Eon: Yo, "Eon's whack now", how you dig that? Couldn't get on my record if you were street rap Get the greater rate with these rhymes i be totin' Let's go back online and jerk off on your modem I got stupid mucus from these loose lips My loose leaf leave your whole persona weak To the point when you stand up on your feet {you} best retreat Let's go back in time and steal my whole seed The quickening, did a ?briss? at the crispening I'm exercisin', to uplifting the foot stage This thing's the nicest, i keep telling you What the fuck this guy on the corner been selling you? (Eminem: "here buy this") Eminem: I'm e-mailing you, at the wrong website Mispelling you, break you and put the fear of hell in you Escape above you, stuff the nurse in a purse Disperse like i added too many words in a verse Slim Shady, a perverted virgin at birth {or "version of birth"} Driving off, leaving the murdered virgin at church The first person searching the earth for the motherfucker That pulled the plug when they shoulda alerted the surgeon first You don't curse and hit with your own words Leave me alone bitch! I get on my own nerves And if i don't got two balls and a middle finger to throw up Then i'm takin' off both shoes and stickin' each middle toe up (fuck y'all!) Mr. Eon: If y'all got a bowl of hash better cash it Dollar signs flashin' i'ma take the last hit (Eminem: "gimmie that") Eminem: And if you're spitting whack shit on the microphone I'ma snatch it outta your hand so fast i'm gonna detach it Mr. Eon: So if you got a bowl of has better cash it Dollar signs flashin' i'ma take the last hit Eminem: I'm flabergasted off two tabs of acid Threw my baby's mother in a hatch-back and latched it Eminem: Any disease out there i'm willing to catch it.... Slim Shady.....All praises to the High & Mighty (scratches): (Eminem)- "Slim Shady" (Eminem)- "naughty rotten rhymer" (Mr. Eon)- "Mr. Eon" (Mr. Eon)- "illest rhyme dropper" (Eminem)- "Slim Shady" (Eminem)- "naughty rotten rhymer" (Mr. Eon)- "Mr. Eon" (Mr. Eon)- "illest rhyme dropper" (Eminem)- "Slim Shady" (Eminem)- "n....nau..naughty...ro..ro..rotten rhyme....rhyme..rhy..rhymer" (Mr. Eon)- "Mr. Eon" (Mr. Eon)- "illest rhyme drop...drop..drop..dro..dro..rhyme dropper |
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| 7. |
| 0:27 |
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| 8. |
| 4:05 |
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Intro:
Girl: Soon you'll have a band Mr. Eon: It's just my voice and this hand Girl: That's what hip hop was and still stands Eon: What Girl: Soon you'll have a band Eon: It's just my voice and this hand Girl: That's what hip hop was and still stands Eon: Cause Girl: We don't have a band Eon: It's just my voice and this hand Girl: That's what hip hop was and still stands Girl: We don't have a band Eon: It's just my voice and this hand Girl: That's what hip hop was and still stands Verse 1: Death to the mic, Starbuck's on arrival Raised in Illadel where I wrecked the recital Introduced Jack Daniels to Mary Jane Now they dating in my body, shit ain't the same Your petty thinking cat need training like Amtrak Can't stand that, need to abandon that Catch a random violent act, over a phantom track With zoot suits and Hammer pants, we ain't wearin' that Swearin' that they nice, when I'm vastly, more nasty Trashy, trying to be all cute and dashing To alien crafts, I'm unabductible My visionary path is unobstructible With the dope we on, Ma look like a Pokemon Arsenic laced lyrics that you choking on Catch my illest tale up on story boards Like my latest smorgasbord with 40 whores Chorus: High & Mighty nicest, too hot spittable Mr. Eon's frequency's untrasmittible Come around the way, we don't act hospitable Can't see us, so on stage we invisible (Repeat) Verse 2: Killed Billy Blanks with Tae-Bo, puffin' hydro But guess what kids?, I wasn't even high though A thousand thirty words can't describe my sturdy turds Absurd, like 30 nerds doing the Dirty Bird, in Atlanta Trash, skidded up Pampers Looking like some old washed up exotic dancers Trains get sprayed like high schoolers these days They don't listen to hip hop, they checkin' Green Day My unexpectedness is like the '69 Mets My 69 wets on my Penthouse pets A mic, better snatch it Record, gotta scratch it A loop, better catch it The blunt, better ash it Who wanna see me erupt? Like I had beans, tacos, pizza and Chinese for lunch Watch me daydream about Tyra's vagina Take a VH to it, catch me in the all nighter Chorus Verse 3: I'm the illest one, I'll smoke L's for 50 years Catch emphysema, then sue Phillie Blunts Really stunts, no need for elaborate tactics Just lick your lips and presto!, it's my mattress Electrocute you in wet clothing articles Send your air particles to the Antarcticas With no bubble Nauticas, no fleeces More popular in Brooklyn than Pee Wee Reese is More infamous in L.I. than Colin Ferguson More hated Uptown that Mayor Rudy son I'm David Berkowitz, when I be spurtin' this Son of Sam on this here diagram Fuck immaculate conception, I was Anakin's dad Took the book to Amsterdam, now the Vatican's sad See my, boys are nuts ill ploys on cuts Your Mattels can't swell, you be Toys'R'Us Chorus Outro: Yes indeed, too hot The spittablest, Mr. Eon Yes indeed, Dick Starbuck Comin' through once again DJ Mighti Mi, Henry Spitty |
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| 9. |
| 4:08 |
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High & Mighty back in this "You think you know what I'm meaning" [B. Real] I'm just a '86 witness "You thi-think-think-think ya know" Take it out you suckers, you don't know how I did it "You think you know what I'm meaning" Yo yo, you're now a game and don't think you're gonna win it "You-think-you think you know what I'm meaning" Maybe if I popped Cristal Said I had a Lexus, or a triple beam I'd get a deal I'd rather speak upon a Maurice Cheeks steal It's the outta paper, not the caps I peel I used my independent, money to pay the rent Remain at hell bent, and far from heaven sent Where they went? The days when mics got destroyed B's just boy-ed, the soft punks got toyed Unemployed, was a happy-go-lucky MC And now that's all they fuckin be bringing to me Where they went? The summer concerts on concrete Elite could put twelve G's in the seat Now I release the masterpiece of my music It's '99, and no one could use it They rather re-use it, the audience confuse it Take Chuck D's Time Bomb, try to defuse it "I've seen your kind before, you're not original" [Lord Jamar] "Ya-you're not ya-you're not orig-riginal" "I've seen your kind before, you're not original" "The-the-the meaning, ya think you know what I'm meaning" [B. Real] "I've seen your kind before, you're not original" "Ya-you're not ya-you're not original" "I've seen your kind before, you're not original" "Ya think you know what I'm meaning" [Mr. Eon] It seems that you gotta come cheap to compete That's why when I chose to go deep you go sleep On a verse, you not gonna get at first Like O.J. would never ever get a hearse first When he die, think about the lie over lie >From verse about the hearse of this rap universe Cuz radical elements remain eloquent The reprocussions tear right through the fabric So act quick, kids at the top is lackin They tryin to turn hip hop to just plain rappin Let the poppers pop and the breakers break Cuz there's just so much of this shit that I can take Now I can't stand the rain, this shit's all the same Mr. E excommuincate your whole game Back in '88 baby everything was gleaming "The meaning, you think you know what I'm meaning" "I've seen your kind before, you're not original" "You're not-you're not-you're not original" "I've seen your kind before, you're not original" "Ya-ya-think-ya-think you know what I'm meaning" [Mr. Eon] Where your skills at, where the ill raps? Where the new tracks, where your heart at? Where the new jacks, gettin contracts? I got a rhyme that I ain't even wrote yet Save the drama classes for the masses Hip hop, glacoma, baby I prescribe the glasses The vision's near-sighted, and narrow-minded The wack shit that you hear, is all hate and fight Take it like harder, fools act retarder In '98, lyrics just disregarded Now how hard it be yo to really concentrate Writin metaphors, wack shit I annihilate Now fools comin through spellin much gibberish While Mighty Mi and I stay acknicilous Raps are bed pan, and I be the nurse Removin shit wit lyrics that I disperse Nail ya coffin, ?so you're? death's epitome Ya fate be taken out is most likely Not likely, we be The High & The Mighty Stompin out crews, the team of the '90's "I've seen your kind before, you're not original" "Not original" "I've seen your kind before, you're not original" "The meaning, you think you know what I'm meaning" "I've seen your kind before, you're not original" "Ya not original" "Ya not" "I've seen your kind before, you're not original" "You think you know what I'm meaning" [Mr. Eon] Gang Starr "Shoulda been number one to me" [Biggie] And D.O.C. "Shoulda been number one to me" Live Team "Shoulda been number one to me" The Disc Masters "Shoulda been number one to me" Show & A. "Shoulda been number one to me" The Crown Rulers "Shoulda been number one to me" And Dilated "Shoulda been number one to me" KMD "Shoulda been number one to me" The Tough Crew "Shoulda been number one to me" And JVC "Shoulda been number one to me" The Main Source "Shoulda been number one to me" The Arsonists "Shoulda been number one to me" *echoes |
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| 10. |
| 3:42 |
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Ah ladies and gentlemen, you're smut peddlers again We're going back to our roots We are porn again.. [Cage] I surf out spots and I bail after they knock Socially disorder like, whites blacks and Puerto Rocks In your lab with toast and oven mittens Keep my feet in anus MC's so much they stop shittin The Sugar Box, called crotch, for Cage prints Leave pussy glowin orange in a spin like dioxins My man's truck crashed, the radiation plant burned Spit ran out, lit up like Green Lantern Bentley on the wrist, while I'm drinkin Sunkist ? ? ? I spit electric piss From big city to outback, somebody's gettin cornered And my steez got my old seeds suicidal abortin shit Even cheerleader from a player present Stuck this hooker with broken glass until her belly looked pregant Pissed in her mouth and lit her stomach for a while Kicked her in the ass while she gave birth to a crystal Chorus: Mr. Eon, Cage I peddle smut like paper routes with no droughts We givin IN-OUTS, and IN-OUTS, and more IN-OUTS I spray fluid by the ounce, your pouch gets pounced Givin IN-OUTS, and IN-OUTS, and more IN-OUTS I peddle smut like paper routes, your mom's house catches IN-OUTS, and IN-OUTS, and more IN-OUTS I spray fluid by the ounce, your pouch gets pounced Givin IN-OUTS, and IN-OUTS, and more IN-OUTS [Mr. Eon] We get our lye on, while my shit spray like Krylon's My wide-eyed state red just like a cylon From the drug that I be high on, you know my motto I'm tellin you girl, I got a tough pill to swallow Like Killamanjaro, been in there ever since Rory Sparrell, shot straight like an arrow I hope to grab up pirates just like a pharoah and I wobble too much, for the straight and narrow But on this mic, I be a pleasant surprise Like seein shaved pussy right in front of your eyes Intriguing, your empty words have no meaning You need Vivarin if you gonna keep sleeping I be quenching thirsts, you're just quarter water Never heard about, just like Seargeant Slaughter O-I-N-T, cobra clutch your domepiece I try to stay slim, but my shit be obese Chorus: Cage, Mr. Eon I peddle smut like paper routes with no droughts We givin IN-OUTS, and IN-OUTS, and more IN-OUTS Spray fluid by the ounce, your pouch gets pounced Givin IN-OUTS, and IN-OUTS, and more IN-OUTS I peddle smut like paper routes, your mom's house catches IN-OUTS, and IN-OUTS, and more IN-OUTS Spray fluid by the ounce, your pouch gets pounced Givin IN-OUTS, and IN-OUTS, and more IN-OUTS [Cage] I scribble declarations cause mental patients need it Turn a dominatrix to a submissive cheerleader Bite it beat it eat it hit it quit it Then I stick my fingers in the fuckin mouth of critics Ahhh, day in the life of Agent Orange mad E.T. Paraphanelia, try all local twats in the area Stormin grounds with four-pounds, I exist through the rounds Take it out on my mom's dome with legs and arms bound [Mr. Eon] We spit phlegm that's outrageous, like sneaker prices Mics get wet like dildo devices Bleed from sores that's puss ridden, plus hidden in a Crackerjack surprise, your demise The skull fracture, I attacked ya Mr. E in 3-D, you're just a beat jacker Exhalin flatulence, past tense Have quadripalegics, doin back bends Chorus: Cage, Mr. Eon I peddle smut like paper routes with no droughts Givin IN-OUTS, and IN-OUTS, and more IN-OUTS Spray fluid by the ounce, your pouch gets pounced Givin IN-OUTS, and IN-OUTS, and more IN-OUTS I peddle smut like paper routes, your mom's house catches IN-OUTS, and IN-OUTS, and more IN-OUTS Spray fluid by the ounce, your pouch gets pounced Givin IN-OUTS, and IN-OUTS, and more IN-OUTS Agent Orange, smut peddler for life Dick Starbuck, smut peddler for life DJ Mighty Mi, smut peddler for life J the Sultan, smut peddler for life Al Goldstein, smut peddler for life Bill Clinton, smut peddler for life Hide your women |
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| 11. |
| 0:46 |
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| 12. |
| 3:59 |
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| 13. |
| 3:56 |
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I encompass, a circumfrence, of your compass Smokey the Bear's opponent, face atonement The kama sutra tutor, the Mets rooter Shorties like my slick finger like ?Bruce Sooter? You caught in this web of the spider The High and the Mighty, might be, slightly, violent It's High-ly the one to leave the sun rayless Now your style's cheaply made like a pair of Payless Pick apart your secondary, like Jim Plunkett Who woulda thunk it? Titanic-ally, I fuckin sunk it Hope to have a spot like George and Wheezy Chocolate peanut butter shit, like Reese's and feces We sees, the observable, absurdable My elements enough to make a kid take a pull No preservatives, but I'm still edible I need my shit green to remain incredible Chorus: Mr. Eon (repeat 2X) You don't know the half Half of me want it all, the other half-assed I'm halfway there I be, death-defyin, within def rhymin Periphery, I can see the whole vicinity [Mr. Eon] I be a misfit of science, like Andre the Giant You need to SHUT UP, givin divine solids Amongst two million, I still be the ill one Multiply two zillion, I'ma still come with stupidity, turnin Santa to Satan Rantin and ravin, while you cave in See I love the sugar walls, get with my hand though And waxin off will be the death of me like Rambo Calisthetics, on any premise, yo well it's the Gleam Hornet, Eon, uncommon like Brian Piccolo's piccolo Mr. Verbal still remain, like Vinny DelNegro I shine golden when you see me, like C-3-P-O I'm PO'd, by a microphone B-O But me though, need the weed green like ?Grit-o? Keep that shit tight like Grandpa's Speedos Chorus [Mr. Eon] Your pitiful spittle, pales to the hale In full scale, you're straight monorail My impact is Amtrak, you toy Lionel You're Slinkies and Weebles fail to prevail You couldn't even fuck with my echo You better let go, desperad', face the barrage You can't mess with Eric the Derelict Cherish it, while we smoke on this green relish it cause I, huff on Dutches, Felipe couldn't spark Step into a spot, thinkin I'm a NARC It's pathetic, my lifestyle is energetic When I wreck the set, even Leon couldn't Lett it happen The High induce the hand-clappin Hallucinations, that you seen from the rappin My hands stink, from the snatch I be slappin Step into the Coliseum, what the fuck happened? Chorus {"You don't even know the half.." ->cut by Mighty Mi |
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| 14. |
| 5:01 |
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You know baby I've been thinkin about you a lot You know I've been doin a lot of.. private things on my own Just me in the bathroom, by myself You know, a little hands on experience You know, just a little thing for myself Yo, I'm six million dollars, rappin like I'm Steve Austin Made of steel, diamonds glitter on the Ampex reel Superchargin my brain cells, glowin extra large and my afro sheen, skin color should be green Girls in the backseat, with thongs stuck between they booboo I'm rappin through you, on sidelines he's talkin to you My finesse in Batmobiles, cruise with Adam West Down Bronx streets and project buildings holdin flashlights Daily newsies, pull your maxi's out, in the movies Make you think fast, rub powder on your diaper rash Catch you with stomachs out, bumps out, and Jimmy Craig'n You still be beggin, with that body shaped, like an egg'n Rhinoceros funk, with panties piled in the trunk Playboy books with Black Tail, my boy, readin Hustler I pull up with no Benz, just a Plymouth Duster Cruisin around town, naked bumpin James Brown Underwear light blue, scratchin balls with hands down You see me comin passin rappers like I'm Mr. Drummond On your street pee, your colored socks, smell like feet Timberland boots walk in Bentley's with my space suits Astronaut sneakers standin hard by the speakers Kool Keith.. Chorus: Kool Keith (repeat 2X) We got butlers with maids, condos built, in Brazil Chrysler Cordovas, Monte Carlos on the hill The raw ingredients, with hands on experience with Nissan trucks, worth a hundred thousand bucks We got butlers with maids, condos built, in Brazil Chrysler Cordovas, Monte Carlos on the hill The raw ingredients, with hands on experience with Nissan trucks, worth a hundred thousand bucks [What What] + first four lines overlap chorus What's he talking about? I don't get it.. .. Hmmmm.. Ooooh! .. Yo I bust my own, ready to feel thrusts My lust explodes in loads, feelin like Big Pun The crush, rushin to phones, for episodes, atone for sex and videos, layin at home, that's stamped with X (hahaha) You feelin me yet? Well then I, guess I'll commence with my five niggaz rubbin, resort-in to self lovin White blood runnin (yo well that's some really nasty shit) Oh, oh well I wouldn't y'all thinkin I'm a sadomasochist I'm past the list of niggaz who masturbate I flash my wrists, when there's no brothers to pass the gate Holdin myself down when I'm on the clit I've got gadgets like I'm fuckin James Bond and shit Flippin myself, hittin the spots, keepin it hot Got the lights off, porn's on, ready to rock, fukkit "Ohhh What What!" I praise myself And I haven't went blind, I've got days of health Even amazed at the stealth speed my hand flicks I represent for chicks and niggaz with they hands on they shit Hah, you got experience? Chorus [Bobbito Garcia] Yo yo yo It's Hand Solo, one time again I'm no jerk my friends, just for dick again and again I put a towel up on the floor for easy post-cleanup, get up, close my door So my roommate won't bust me like my mom did, and my dad did and my college roommate did, with jerkers in my palm That's why now, I do it dry So that's the set up, I tilt my head up puy my fingers on my nipple, swish around my pre-cum dribble Rippin epidermis cause it's easy to be Shootin loads to go to bed, cause it makes me sleepy Titties on my mind, close to ejaculation Anal perspiration, heavy inhalation I strive for the shoulders, in Boulder Colorado Shoot on walls and toilet stalls is my motto It's like that y'all y'all and you don't dare stop stop I grab my cock until the cum drops Mr. Eon you got hands on experience? (You know I do) Grab the mic and get delerious [Mr. Eon] Callouses on my hand, both left and right Vaseline, magazine, and my lovin hand with a tight slip, put my wood in a vice grip And then Janet Jack-me with them fine ass lips I spew goo in the form of Elmer's Glue Up in my mind, a pornography who's who Channel 35 receiver, dick reliever Spank to the thought, of me shavin beavers I'm Mr. Miyagi, wax on, wax off I even jerked at dinner, on the tableclothes Paper towel napkins, tissue's not the issue I know you be fearin this, hands on experience So there you have it Live, from the perverted minds of Kool Keith, What What, Bobbito and Mr. Eon Another case of hands on experience Put your left hand on, pull your left hand off Put your right hand on, and we jerk it til it's soft We do the knuckle shuffle til the cum run out That's what it's all about! That's what it's all about |
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| 15. |
| 3:31 |
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Weed, weed, what a relief Where will my eighth a day habit cease? This an agricultural service announcement You can treat it, and you can douse it Let us begin now with the plant The way that it gets to your blunt in hand See the herb doesn't grow fast enough for man so for his lye, he makes a master plan He has bowls to make the weed grow quicker Through the hydroponic, the weed gets sicker Twenty-one different soils are dumped into the pot in one big lump So just before it dies, it dries in my back closet, with no moss and flies Off with the bud, we cut it, weigh it, and bag it and there it is for your local street addict Green and buddy, an ounce condensely packed Smoke it up and catch a heart attack Now come on now man let's be for real You are what you smoke is the way I feel but the weed and blunt administration'll have you thinkin lye is the perfect combination See heads be livin under fear and stress wonderin where they get the best Now beer and bless can become a part of you in your cells and dome, this is true So when the plant is grown, believe it Sell some to your man or smoke for free kid Roll it up, and begin seasonin Then you sit down, and begin seein shit In your body, Blackwoods, a Phillie, a Dutcher All the need and fiend for another See any smoke's addictive by any man Even the brownish rag it's all the same The alchemist'll have my ass, strung out on the indo and Northern Lights no doubt Think you got your weed habit on lock? Tell yourself you gonna try and stop smokin weed and you'll see you need the tree It's the number one drug on the street Not coke, cause that's a category of dope but the green leaf, that I smoke with wreath Now herb brings life and real bad breath Smoke all your shit and what you got left? Absolutely high, the sedative Watchin the movie Friday, with a spliff by Chris Tucker, that high motherfucker For anybody, Northern or Southerner See how many blunts we gotta pump up fatter? How many seeds gotta fall in the batter? How many chickens wanna smoke what you smoke? And how many heads ask for just one toke? Now they'll consume, the local dread could care less He'll sell you donkey shit and say it's FRESH for ninety-nine, you suckerrrrrrrrrs! High & Mighty, Mr. Eon, Mighty Mi Get your own shit, get your own shit man This my shit, I smoke my shit you smoke your shit Then we'll be fine |
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| 16. |
| 1:12 |
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| 17. |
| 3:42 |
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This is a remix...this is a remix "A-a-a-at-at night the open mic be invitin me to rhyme" >Rakim High & Mighty, Wordsworth, Alkemist, Mr. Eon, wreckin shit "A-a-a-at-at night the open mic be invitin me to rhyme" Mr. E-O-N must be talkin bout me (Who dat?) The one and only High & Mighty MC Who be perpendicular when I be dickin ya E smoke a bone the size of a fibula Prepare for the slaughter, the lyrical marauder Unfreakable acts like me and your daughter, did I be coughin layin in the coffin Step out the fantasy world you be lost in Dead man walkin, engage you hawkin >From Pensauken to Vienna I be me and a slew to combat your crew With acrobatics only seen in cartoons Like the Go-ad Rucker, double-pumped ya Puncture, vocally rupture, puff a cluster Ambidextrious, both sides test this Removin wackness like asbestos "A-at night, the open mic be invitin me to rhyme" "The open mic...the open mic...at night the open mic be invitin me to rhyme" "Open m-mic, I bring out that box to the shit." "At night, the open mic be invitn me to rhyme... the open mic-mic-m-m-mic be inv..itin me to r-rh-hyme" "Open mic, I bring out that box to the shit" [Wordsworth] Yo check it out, yo; From cranadle to cradle and able to print I'm so deep that dirt's at my naval, my table submit You audio/video vaginal, lines imagine a magnitudes That give longitude and latitude some attitudes >From an environment, freestyle's a requirment Upon every album, that my parents had to hide the rent If my demise commence unexpectantly, just test my pee I bet you see ecstasy or some obscenity inject in me (what else?) I flood your airways, place planes in jeopardy Flights vanish, panick deputies, expectancy for jet debris Let it be, and commence the record to play I'm so ahead of my time when I talk there's a seven second delay Don't judge a book by its cover when I'm inventin I add your colon to my sentence, and start to pluck off on your appendix Dexterity hurled is about to rally the world You can't write without using like, what are you some type of valley girl? At open mics, I'm tellin y'all one last time Stop askin for a capellas and then kickin those wach rhymes, flatline what, yo-yo-yo "A-a-a-a-a-at-a-at night the open mic be invitin me to rhyme ..the open m...mic be invitin me to r-r...rhyme" "Open mic...I bring out that box to the shit" [Thirstin Howl III] I'm accustomed to abiding by freestyle penal code My rhymes are like long drives going down a scenic road Taught discipline through paragraphs, walk backstreets and narrow paths My kicks look dirty and pants sag like I have no ass! Flippin styles that'd pioneered in the Space Age Writin your first paragraph, I'm already on my eighth page For the way you write your rhymes, I could tell you never really made grades Going through life miserable, hatin yourself on payday A pleasant plea, Thirstin in parentheses I heard a mute man mention me to a blind woman on Vescey Street Urged to leave gats alone in memory of Pumpkin and Faster Poem Wouldn't want my moms to identify me with half the dome! A toast, with high price gangrere Battle the best motherfuckers and whoever they bring here Long term, sought through rations I even put freestyle under special skills when submitting application Flows, that can't be followed by asthma patients Got a deathwish? Here's his extension, ask for Satan The rap languages me and more, findin subjects in Singapore Impressin MC's who swore to God they'd seen it all "The open mic be invitin me to rhyme" "...The open mic...the open mic be invitin me to rhyme" "Open mic I bring out that box to the shit" *scratched out by DJ Mighty Mi |
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| 18. |
| 3:41 |
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| 19. |
| 3:07 |
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