Of course you know what a fuse is...

It's a long piece of cord impregnated with gun powder

When you strike a match and light it

It burns, fitfully, sputteringly to it's end

At which there is, a little surprise



Krypton, short suit MCs you'll be ripped on

You fell off and it's my lyric sheet you just slipped on

Get gone, spit on mic's made in Hong Kong

Rock on, sing songs, were mightier than King Kong

A donkey, you think you want me or want this

Want some, hold your reputation for ransom

With these here, handsomely crafted tactics

To break a snake and see like a cheap profilactic

Galactic, space now, yeah that grabs attention

Crackheads nodded like a pest can't even mention

Right a pest traps gas tracks in sections

Kid steps this, he needs witness protection



Trying to see while I

Can you see it?

I'll be here

Trying to see while I

If you see it

I'll be here



It was the junkyard crooked letter C-I-entific

Duck us, the ruckus I'll bring stings your eardrum

Hear one, lalala loose, find me fearsome

Opposing troops on my home front shall be gone

Testing the eight-hundred, eighteenth batallion

Shall I go on, cruise run like rebels

Enola Gay rhymes kicked the notch up a level

In intesity, send back attacks that you sent to me

Blow up your spot with grenades that were meant for me

MP3 versus R33 MCs

Swiss cheese your gear putting shrapnel in the breeze

We're lead MCs with enemy companies

With my hand full of lyrics talking 'bout you want these?

Please, don't even speak the name of channels

And low gadget mic shit, put it down like pens

For my friends and my fam

Let them dodge it around

This mic shot through the back of an MCs hand

With