The Real

[Verse 1: Illy] Yeah, Who gonna equal this, none of them count The sum's the whole of their parts so no point interrupting 'em now They just divide themselves by themselves, staying boxed under the ground Square roots, no fucking around, we nail it They tools man, they wanna compare cuticles The last one's standing out, like the chair's musical Peace and games now, but ain't a distant scene to see The blast cavities indicative the history between us It's been war, and all's fair in it Beware of the truth, can't raise troops off of fairy bread At this range, our caliber won't put a hole in your head They'll blow your head clean off your neck, bomb squad stomp in Lock step, Illy Al, Grey Ghost, Mantrizzle Trigga Trials in the building, supplying death till demand filled It's a minefield, blow up appeal Their LP's landfill soon as we sign seal and deliver the real, uh [Turntablism: DJ Flagrant] "Hydro Bazooka shit" "Hit em where it hurts" "Blow them motherfucking back—back out" "We keeps it real inside the battlefield-battlefield Battle-battle-battlefield" "This ain’t rap-rapping" "This is warfare""Bitch" "Nobody move ‘til I say-say so" "Time’s up over-over, blaow!" [Verse 2: Grey Ghost] I traded in an AK47 for a pile of 45S So my weapon is the music in the war tonight Call this gorilla warfare cos I'm about to go ape shit Grey Ghost/Jeremedy double agent Door to door killer, semi-automatic villain Spit it at a million miles a minute 'til I'm finished Send a prayer to mother earth cos we tortured to girl Write lyrics as a way of declaring war on the world Words of mass destruction (WMDS) Instructions only seen by a couple of MC's Playing cops and robbers, I would always play cadet A plank of wood with a stick taped to it as a bayonet A rapscallion's adorned in medallions Don't ever wanna fuck with me and my battalion Strictly lyrical kid, criminal mind Scribble over your lyric page to cross enemy lines [Turntablism: DJ Flagrant] "Hydro Bazooka shit" "Hit em where it hurts" "Blow them motherfucking back—back out" "We keeps it real inside the battlefield-battlefield Battle-battle-battlefield" "This ain’t rap-rapping" "This is warfare""Bitch" "Nobody move ‘til I say-say so" "Time’s up over-over, blaow!" [Verse 3: Mantra] Who could even assume that another living human Could possibly do what I'm doing, let alone prove it I move in and out of reality, truly unique anatomy This unity on a track is nuclear fusion A volatile, highly flammable, collusion of chemicals Caught on a collision course with whoever try stepping to Arms dealer got my crew standing sentinel Checking the bomb is armed and to the letter exceptional No expectations, we merely make examples Rap to break records, occasionally clear samples Tamper with the fabric of classic rap shit Put a tear right through it and stare right through it As far as I'm concerned, it's there for my amusement So when I tear mics, dude, it's meat at my truest Soothsaying superhuman sharp shooter, who's playing? I'm aiming at you, setting 'em ablaze in the booth [Turntablism: DJ Flagrant] "Hydro Bazooka shit" "Hit em where it hurts" "Blow them motherfucking back—back out" "We keeps it real inside the battlefield-battlefield Battle-battle-battlefield" "This ain’t rap-rapping" "This is warfare""Bitch" "Nobody move ‘til I say-say so" "Time’s up over-over, blaow!"