featuring Unique London



* a shorter version of this song appears on "Soundbombing 2"



[Unique London]

Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock your style is mad tight!

Your style is mad tight your style is mad TIGHT!!

Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock your style is mad tight!

Your style is mad tight your style is mad TIGHT!!



[Thirstin Howl III]

My mind is stronger than the pictures in your muscle books

With more manners, than all of the Huxtables

Pain before pleasure (U.L.: Death before dishonor!)

Turn rap wannabe piranhas into _A Fish Called Wanda_

Swordfish.. to mermaids..

I lay down the law without being represented by an attor-ney

Overqualified, for all technical institutes

I get the job done when you barely make it past the interview

The streets is watchin, eyeballin -- careful!

Everybody wants a piece of me like I'm a James Brown sample

Spittin flames -- call the fire warden!

Out of town, violent tourist, glove grip

Isotoner, sands of time, priceless moments

Disguised as doorman -- plug, vital organs

With my bare hands, I fight your swordmen, smokescreen

rifles scorchin -- even my bible's stolen!



[Unique London]

Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight!

Your style is mad tight, your style is mad TIGHT!!

Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight!

Your style is mad tight, your style is mad TIGHT!!



[Thirstin Howl III]

Imagine, life without handcuffs

Concentration -- with the brain muscle tissue of Samson

The benchpress, of a gold medal-ist, in the olympics

Rifle reach of Manute Bol's two arms

I'm shotgun ammunition -- soon to be airing

When I'm not in my shell (U.L.: All you see are his balls baring!)

The rap, promoter, I start your motor

with a screwdriver -- break into your crib woulda bent the door off

Cuchada, or bent hanger

Who wanna get it on? My mic is cocked, I'm overanxious!!

Before battles, get a permit to come within two blocks radius

Kiss your mother, see your preacher, and study fire-exit safety tips

Bring witcha, a fire extinguisher

I make the whole scene (U.L.: BLOODY!) with an English touch

In ninety-eight I'm still robbin people for sheepskin gloves

Had three gazelles, admitted nothing when I sat in my cell



[Unique London]

Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight!

Your style is mad tight, your style is mad TIGHT!!

Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight!

Your style is mad tight, your style is mad TIGHT!!



[Thirstin Howl III]

A strongarm with lyrics, watch how I prove myself

Whether shadowboxing or full contact I maneuver well

About to have rap locked, with rhymes two to a cell

Inmate in segregated housin unit refusin the mail

Nervous, chain smoker, high blood pressure

Master fool or court jester, lyrical sport experts

Dress for tennis, the mind of Minolta with special-effect lenses

Parade of all-stars, with Brownsville Bullet gold cards

Don't played with a full deck, as positive as my drug urine test

My rhymes do to your brain what bullets do to flesh!

Rockin the house, the cradle, the boat, in the eighth grade

coulda rocked the bells, but I was more comfortable in straight legs

Strong, like the contribution to rap Kane gave

My ego and my conscience refuse to share the same space!

Treacherous like Naughty By Nature and Kool Moe Dee

Wouldn't catch me Half Steppin', even if I lost both feet!



[Unique London]

Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight!

Your style is mad tight, your style is mad TIGHT!!

Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight!

Your style is mad tight, your style is mad TIGHT!!

Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight!

Your style is mad tight, your style is mad TIGHT!!

Hey Brooklyn Hard Rock, your style is mad tight!

Your style is mad tight, your style is mad TIGHT