Black Spasmodic

[Intro: Q-Tip & (Q-Tip & Phife Dawg)]

Yo, y'all ready?

Yo, Phife, you ready?

Cons, you got that part, right? A'ight

(I dunno but it don’t matter who choose to set it off

ATCQ, no doubt my niggas is boss

Little half-ass rappers, y’all pissin’ me off

Time to dead ‘em all off, yo, no matter the cost)

[Hook: Consequence]

(Black) They don’t make thugs of this caliber

(Spasmodic) Who kept up the buzz the whole calendar

(Black) Used to sell drugs out the Challenger

(Spasmodic) Used to keep guns with the silencers

(Black) They don’t make thugs of this caliber

(Spasmodic) Who kept up a buzz the whole calendar

(Black) Used to sell drugs out the Challenger

(Spasmodic) Now look what he does to any challenger

[Verse 1: Phife Dawg]

Now who want it with the Trini gladiator?

Mid finger to you haters, you biters not innovators

I take zero for granted, I honors my gift

Champion pen game, plus I’m freestyle equipped

You clowns be bum sauce, speak my name, it’s curtains

Hamdulillāh, my crew’s back to workin'

Trash rap the dead, pussy kill the chirping

No more fuck boys, sit down, shit can only get worse

And how do you touch mic with flows uncertain?

Speak game dry, boy, that flow ain’t workin'

Folks throwin' items, them vex and cursin'

Fuck made me wanna see these niggas in person?

Third song in, motherfuckers dispersin'

Only to realize Donald Juice in the buildin'

Big tune this for man, woman, and children

Back on my bullshit, Busta Bus' then we kill them

[Hook: Consequence]

(Black) They don’t make thugs of this caliber

(Spasmodic) Who kept up the buzz the whole calendar

(Black) Used to sell drugs out the Challenger

(Spasmodic) Used to keep guns with the silencers

[Verse 2: Q-Tip]

My nigga spirit be talkin' to me, let me explain

Not through evil mediums, tarot cards, and Ouija games

But through mixing chords and boards

And even drum machines—he be saying:

"Nigga fuck awards, keep reppin’ Queens"

And don’t be taking slack from these non-rapping niggas, man

That intellectual shit you spit, you better change your plan

Especially when you see 'em at the lobby of a label

And they don’t seem able to outstretch they hands

And admit they fans

You better flame 'em in the J's that they standing in

Ostracize they memory for not remembering

The articles reduce their body parts to particles

And dust the Dead Sea with their cremated molecules

I’m leaving, but nigga you still got the work to do

I expect the best from you, I’m watching from my heaven view

Don’t disappoint me, make sure that they anoint me

As the blue ribbon pedigree, the best of show, five-foot-three

Speak of the legacy for short people around the world

Napoleonic, bionic people who cause the world to twirl

Rip every stage with grace, look right dead in they face

Live the Tribe principle of havin' impeccable taste

Enjoy that breath like that one was your last one left

If you don’t believe me, Tip, there’s truly life after death

So refer to the Biggie covers and shoutout my Trini brothers

And please check in on my mother...

Malik Izaak, call me shorty"

[Hook: Consequence]

(Black) They don’t make thugs of this caliber

(Spasmodic) Who kept up the buzz the whole calendar

(Black) Used to sell drugs out the Challenger

(Spasmodic) Used to keep guns with the silencers

(Black) (Spasmodic)