Onslaught

[Verse 1 - Royce Da 5'9"]

You dealin with a four-headed monster

Y'all are John McCain, you can't lift your arms up

These po-ranhas, live by a certain code of conduct

Fuck fly hoes and blow ganja

He a prophet, predict shit

The year 2029 is gon' be the apocalypse caused by the Apophis - me

I got it lock and key

Tell the labels we 'bout to go on a shoppin' spree

And if y'all don't wanna sign us, you corny

Tell your hoes swallow two of these nuts and call us in the mornin'

We the answer, to the dance floor please

You gotta fuck us all bitch, you can't Or-tease

Budden, Crooked, Nickel, damn whore please

We up in this bitch like trans or see

We the Voltron crew, it's whatever your folks wan' do

We turn this bitch into SOCOM 2

I'm the best rapper alive, Lil Wayne's migraine

Jay-Z's headache, touchin' what the lead ain't

Motherfuck your feelings, you don't know with what you're dealin'

Tryin to "ketchup", you mustard spillin'

I'm amongst hustlers killin'

Money stacks touch the ceiling, what a fuckin' feelin'

You will never feel, you will never sell

You can't see me, feel me, they should use my knuckles instead of Braille

I walk with the toast - feelin like

How the fuck is talk is cheap? Talk is what's gon' cost you the most

I'm the one really yo

I'm the gun spark like Omilio, you a J-Hood done video

That ain't a diss so please don't diss me

The mag' barrel longer than the G's on 50

I tell a bitch click your heels twice and ease on with me

This is the life... we gone

[Verse 2 - Joe Budden]

I ain't with the leanin' and rockin'

That ain't even seen as a option, nigga as a teen I was mobbin'

Stick him up, if it's in his jeans then I'm robbin

Mayne, walk around like the thing get to cockin' (what?)

But I ain't even tryna be seen when it's poppin'

You ain't seen hoppin 'til you seen with a rocket

Pull up, lookin' real clean in the drop and (nigga)

I ain't hit the bing or a cot since

Dog, tell your whole team ya cannot win

'Til they make some type of vaccine, I'm a problem

I don't sleep on a soul, got that wrong (nigga)

Even Ben Vereen can get tapped on

Clapped on, mashed on, like M.O

My M.O. is Rambo, ammo

Got money now so there's marble on the handle

On wax so let's beef with no candles

Dismantled, click, bam!

Got some shit your man won't with-stand (nigga!)

I make the hood like V.I.P

Now you can't even get in without a wrist-band

I'm just, bland

Learn when you walk with your head too high is when shit hits the fan

Damn, Grant Hamblin, grand tamperin'

In two bars I'll send your mans scramblin'

Now how it feel to throw punches and can't land 'em?

Or be powerless while you can't stand 'em

And treat Comp like Richard Simmons

Behind closed doors the boy gon' manhandle him

Get out-paced 'til you out the race

If you worried about your face, about face (nigga!)

Cause, if you ain't all about your papes

Then nigga you a transgender, all outta place

[Verse 3 - Crooked I]

When I face off, picture a thug missin' his mug

Any particular stick in the mud could get hit with a Scud missile

'til he's, drippin' ridiculous blood

If you, rather stick to the fists and the gloves

Then you, gettin' hit on, more than the prettiest bitch in the club

Nigga I'm itchin to bug!

Itchi'n like a syphilis dick, itchin' like the skin of a bitch

Addicted to drugs, just to hit you with slugs

I did it because I wanted to!

Shoot you in back of your head right in front of you

That's what the gun'll do

All I do is son ol' niggas on the W

All I do is make all newcomers come anew

I ain't lyin', sir

You ain't gotta watch Tim Duncan jump to see a flyin Spur

Bentley boy, no it's not "H to the Izzo"

But I push buttons like Jay shoulda did Joe

People's choice, the voice of my time

With Royce Da 5'9", we boys and night shine

I let Joell poison my mind

Grab a silencer and kill y'all noise with my 9

As Spalding balls'll get tossed in the hoop

Pierce from Boston explains how often I shoot

I'm a Molotov crossed with a nuke

See I swallow liquor bottles 'til they hollow then I crawl in the booth

I'm the truth, polygraph Crooked

You prolly have a cardiac heart attack when I autograph bullets

Mo' caskets - put so much bread on your head

When my gunners are done, man they owe taxes

Bow-legged, knock-kneed, one irregular shoe

And you supposed to be steppin' to who?

Tell 'em All Crooked came for war

The best ever on the West unless your last name's Shakur

[Verse 4 - Joell Ortiz]

Just be easy buddy, relax

Please don't have me bloody my axe

Or revvin' my chainsaw to sever your brain off

With no concentration I'm better than Adolf

Never been laid off, forever put in work

As beats and skeets I fucked every bitch that said I was a jerk

Heh, it's like you cuter when you word maneuver

Got every dot-com in my palm and I don't know how to work computers

Yeah it's true, Slaughterhouse, I know you heard the rumors

That's new but '02 e'ry verse was ruder

Than you worthless losers

So we formed a four alien alliance, just dyin' to earth intruders

E'rybody's a president, bunch of Herbert Hoovers

If what I said had legs it could burn a cougar

Speakin' of burn, I'm hip-hop sixty shots of Henny on the rocks

You're eggnog with a squirt of Kahlua

Can't lie, it's mad fun bein' zoned

My flow is straight, yours slant like Gumby's dome

Lotta guys don't want me on

But as long as I get in a spot with my fists, my gun be home

I will beat you dudes like you stole from moms

In an audience at shows I just fold my arms

I'm so disappointed in you new rap guys

I'm like no! C'mon, how'd he do that? Why?

Oh, no, he diggity do that doe

"I'm MC so-and-so, where's my ringtone dough?"

See that ain't gon' cut it long as I'm around

That goes for every person, place or thing that describes a noun

It's J-O-E-double what I never take

Whoever feel they could give me my first one then set a date

I'll Be There like a young Mike Jack'

Hip-Hop prayed and God gave Pun right back