Yo, when the bass thump, the place jump

Like it's way crunk, yeah,

Fake punks get they face lumped

Sent to the most high, by the most fit

You gotta do, fuck that almost shit

The fam is close knit

You diggin', know the clock don't stop tickin'

Glocks still spittin', the whole block politickin'

Lik epresidents with they minds dead on arrival

Leaving no evidence of a struggle for survival

Songs relevant to the times like the psalms read in the Bible

Stepping to this leaves thoughts in your head 'it's suicidal'

It's the T to the A-L-I-B the deep rooter

Rolling with my wanna battle cats who chief buddha

And see through the overspecialized, underpressurized

No lie texturized, emcees who got the masses mesmerized

with empty rhetoric, they better quit

Niggas so hollow that they echo like sentiments



Nowadays rap artists coming half-hearted

Commercial like pop, or underground like black markets

Where were you the day hip-hop died?

Is it too early to mourn? Is it too late to ride? (6x)



Kwa is chillin', Tone is chillin'

What more can I say, we stay building

And make killings

Take children through the wilderness, by the hand

It's a great feeling, show 'em how to be a man

Exactly, pack trees in my khakis

My sound fat like a Neve while you thin like a Mackey

C'mon, shine so bright when I walk by

You got ta squint like the motherfucking sun in your eye

What! Say somethin, you stay frontin

It ain't nothing, let off like I'm big game hunting

Me and Tek stay way blunted

Wave running on beaches with white sand

With a slight tan

Smack the mic stand with my right hand

When I'm excited

Leave you so far in the dust that you forced to bite it-a