[Intro]
Can I do it?
Yeah!
Can y'all do it?
Yeah!
All together now
Ahhh...
[Verse 1: Celph Titled]
If me and some rap faggot have static
We can go to war, at your show you'll need flak jackets
Strapped with automatics? No, we use bats and hatchets
Give the microphone a drug test, I spit crack at it from crack addicts
Approach your A&R with an AR
Based on a true story, I spit H-bombs in every eight bars
When Tony put his face in that snow
I was writin' them flavor flows
And yeah, even my worst haters know that I'm a player for sho'
They be like, "Yeah, I'm with you Titled."
Bring bitches back to the pad like a menstrual cycle
You walk around like you some kinda thuggy guy
I know you ain't Diddy but I can make you see through Puffy eyes
[Verse 2: Sadat X]
You know my stats, boy, you know what I'm workin' with
Firearms of various calibers penetrate
I'm the hate that breeds hate, nah, let me illustrate
Time stands still on the day that's slow
With me it ain't about the show, it's 'bout the proof
I heard an amp from the roof
Make any fatal move and this is a stick-up
You sneeze or even hiccup, you layin' flat
You wanna face this rage?
Somebody threw some meat in the cage
Wear armor, you can call Obama, call your mama
I breed armies, make men out of boys
I'm the tactical General Patton from BK to Manhattan
You frontin', you lame, treat your whole squad the same
[Verse 3: Grand Puba]
I don't play when it come to this
I rule the mic with the iron fist
Compile data, then I make the list
Grab the wack, threw their ass through trash
They're empty trash, so they don't exist
Since vinyl words flow like herds of rhinos
Leave your ass trampled when I'm runnin' on the sample
A showdown at sundown, these verbals I run down
Will leave yo ass dumbfound, you thought you was gunned down
Rhyme style mean like a dope fiend lean
Head against the green and you face the guillotine
Grand Puba, there's no way you can dodge
Better off tryin' your luck in Las Vegas at Mirage
[Verse 4: A.G.]
Been through ups and downs, never touched the ground
Like girls with the big butts, never fucked with clowns
I let the music take over me, words flow through me
Truly the best, that's why niggas keep quotin' me
I'm the baddest nigga livin', average niggas don't stand a chance
I danced in France, put hands and feets on beats
Put fans in trances, Amsterdam is
A place where I sin, get that yen in Japan, kid
The Swiss mountains, I got a Swiss accountant
Chick with a fountain pen, keep my chips amountin'
To somethin', my grind is unparalleled
While y'all niggas keep on horsin' around like carousels
[Verse 5: O.C.]
Yeah, mind over
As a matter of fact there's no practice needed
See, I'm matched bar none
When it's all said and done up, the last man standing is proof
Who has the biggest brass in battles, a crafty McGyver
E'ryday things 'round me work to my advantage
Preempt the plan at random
So every livin' soul on the planet understand this
As some often say, the heir is apparent
I'm that Maltese priceless art, there's no biddin'
On an auction block, fortune of Fort Knox
Off top or written, each vowel takes precision
Knockout solidifies when they fight over decision
[Verse 6: Diamond D]
I got the flow so cold niggas call me Chilly
Don't ever press up, fam, I smack you silly
If I'm all out of dutches, I pack the Phillie
On my J-O-B I mack the millies
And I'm all about stackin' my chips
Gettin' dome in the back of the whips, start smackin' them hips
All that slick talk'll just get you smacked in the lips
Game time, fourth quarter, back to the blitz
You can't move me, shake me, break me, make me
Be somethin' I'm not, niggas wanna snake me
I write by Skate Key, right in the 'X
Big Diam still writin' the checks, holla at me
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