[Intro: Russian Roulette sample]
Only way to settle this argument is to play Russian Roulette
Do you know how to play Russian Roulette?
No, I don't
You play Russian Roulette this way
I have this pistol, one bullet in chamber, spin cylinder, cock the gun, hold gun to your head and pull trigger
I go first
{*spinning cylinder*} {*trigger pulled*}
Now you go, here's the pistol
{*spinning cylinder*}
{*gunshot*}
"Aha! You lose"
[Verse 1: Malaki]
The KGB making stages twice as dangerous as these streets
Malaki and Binary, formally spontaneous peeps
Form the lyrically elite, peace to the conquistador Beace
When we unsheathe our swords
And the OneManArmy brings beats to boards
We tame your angriest beast, defy your atheist beliefs
Malaki'll get a crowd of paraplegics outta their seat
While I strangle the mic, I'll mangle your ass slow and painfully
Be thankful you still alive, I live faithfully by the phrase 'Catch wreck or die'
You chose to live dangerously tanglin' with me
You can't hang, I'll make Jack The Ripper look like your guardian angel Anger me, I'll give you enough mic cable to hang yourself
Place your name on the waiting list for Hell
With the rest of the cell gangsters
With gashes on your back after lashes with the mic cords
Warlords storm stages, making mic stand pipe bombs
And Molotovs out of Krylon cans; meet my demands
Or you'll have a Michigan mic massacre on your hands
[Verse 2: Senim Silla]
Biohazardous Agent Orange, Silla's airborne, infectuous
Rhyme lectures spit quick and effective
Dangerous, lethal languages, if slang could kill
Murder he wrote and assassin would rename my skill
Senim's a rough son of a gun, keep razors under my tongue
Strike with enough force to puncture a lung
I'm lyrically harmful, literally speakin'
Emcees I'm browbeatin', demeanin' and ill treatin'
Get introduced to mines and meet your demise
I despise rap guys and all their wack ties
'Cause in my eyes, all men are not considered equal
Especially if you ain't one of Binary's people
[Verse 3: Vaughan T. aka Texture]
How much you asking for?
I'll give you that plus a classic more
Air delivery; verbal total package raw, the mental matador
Mic heavyweights to shake the planet core
With one verse got you thinkin', "Yo, cancel the war!"
You flirtin' with death, better off dancin' with wolves
Or stabbin' yourself in the vocal cords with cancerous swords
After this track, ya hit the streets recruitin' new thugs
'Cause we got your squad shook, holdin' hands in group hugs
The die-harders – Ann Arbor's like a monster in your closet
Challengin' us is like playin' opossum with a carcass
You could never win, hope your DJ specialize in medicine
'Cause the Athletic army conquers and divides your regiment
The M.I. resident known for talkin' shit
And got my reputation rippin' in the heart of The Mitt
A fortunate gift, spit lines that'll force you to quit
Drop the mic and have you writin' for The Source or some shit
[Verse 4: Elzhi]
These niggas backstab like they Benedict
Drag they face in the mud 'til they mug looks like they bit a brick
Bust like Magnificent Seven on horseback
Unsigned, but find my Rap Quotables in The Source mag–
–azine for fiends who fiend for guillotine sword stats
My tongue is the stinger, my brain is the stun gun
It's deadly as the one you put your thumbs on
And squeeze from the bottom with fatigues
When I'm hidin' in the trees, so high I can breathe on a falcon
Jump down, sneak up on a emcee from the rear
A predator with the literature, it shows through my signature
Deliver more digits for your clique
What's even more sick is – I'm a visitor
And plus they be diggin' more
Scopin' the perimeter, sink within the floor
Terminator 2, split your brain in two while you snore
Keep sleepin', my train of thought is heat seekin'
Fade your poor squad like drippin' ink from my pen and addin' Clorox
Murder emcees and leave my fingerprints on doorknobs
The court finds me guilty, might be different in the Lord's eyes
An evil genius, I play a villain in a movie
Fingertips touch the ceilin' from the revealin' of the uzi
In this bloodsport, open up my mouth
And watch those slugs walk gracefully
Where your head reside is now a vacancy
El-Zion – cut the head of a python
With a butcher knife long, when I die I want my third eye bronzed
[Verse 5: O-Type Star]
A sip of liquor, the flow-picker with sensational wool
And skin like brass, the gravitational pull
Of two stars that's rotatin' like space vinyl
Had me on the train like Lionel – Richie
Broke, then rich again, Illinois to Michigan
Spartan conditions, I won't bench but switch again
Style like tracks to smack who can't stand me
I build excitement like Pontiac Grand Prix
Wider is better, Illi' is deffer
Im tryin' to count zeros and hoes like Hugh Hefner
The O.B.A.F.G.K.M
My squad all stars; suckers, we slay them
O-Type Star, I blew spots when I said things
My thoughts take flight, like black hawks with red wings
Uh, slicker than a oil refinery
I hit your whole system when I shine with the Binary
[Verse 6: TaRaach aka Lacks]
Acknowledge the presence of perfection
I could give a fuck about you lyin', sayin' your style is free when its tense
Like Les Nessman
A freshman in this game, while we tryin' to graduate
I blow minds, while you be blowin' funk from the last ass you ate
Now let me ask you straight, before I start trippin'
Is it me or is it somethin' 'bout your lines sound like Nas 'cause it was bitten?
Your motor skill is outright and meanin' to act faster
I hump rhythms while you couldn't Poke a Tone with Trackmaster
The rap bastard without Wu-Tang
Though, realistically most males are
The difference is I don't judge my manhood by what my sales are
If its about the boldest, I'm the most out-coldest since winter
To make you stop the tape and
Inspect the Deck like you down with the RZA, nigga
So I advise you to remember your roles
And tell your crew, if they got beef, then I can bring the dinner rolls
Over Fender rhodes with sweet snares and fat drum kicks
I sing sweet soliloquies of souls and hold dumb chicks
I mean chickens – runnin' off in chickens like bestiality
And for any nigga that want it, I drop the beat for you to battle me
Simply to prove at your expense, I be's the shit
Squeezin' squares into little pieces like Cheese Nips
[Verse 7: OneManArmy]
A wack emcee is something I could never be
That's like growin' dreadlocks while you takin' chemotherapy
Theoretically, pen and paper is the recipe
Alphabetically, I'm comin' after U like the letter V
If you ever step to me, the worst is yet to come
You'll never get the best of me, call it like a referee
Call it destiny, check the melody
Break the law of gravity and lyrically catch a felony
I make it harder for the next emcee, that's my specialty
Rappers better be tryin' to rap ahead of me
I'm a hard act to follow, I could prove it medically
I'm sick in the head, I could move a crowd with mental telepathy
Expect nothin' less of me, top pedigree
Rap assassin, blastin' with syllable weaponry
Shoot the sheriff and the deputy, don't be testin' me
Whoever think they fat can get the Dick Gregory
[Verse 8: J.U.I.C.E.]
It's countless how many rappers over vinyl we scar
I just rotate and dislocate your spine if we spar
Even freestyle in French when I'm rhymin' abroad
I'm in the party, rhymin' off Bacardi Lime and cigars
I rattle rafters, you battle rappers tryin' to be hard?
Rap's blackjack and JUICE is like a primary card
You secondary, that's why you gotta rhyme with a squad
But, genetically, ya'll niggas is designed to be flawed
Yesterday, I spit game at your dime and she paused
To let me see her thick frame and outline of her drawers
So the chance that you been lookin' for is finally yours
But, see, I'm deadlier than havin' cyanide in your pores
I spin a rhyme, my hand is intertwined with the cord
Slowly the mic is ripped to bits, my dynasty tours
Big JUICE, signin' off with the Binary Stars
The only person who could kick a doper line would be God
