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作词 : Givens, Henderson, Macfadden ...
Ayo my quality control, captivates your party patrol
Your mind, body, and soul
For whom the bell tolls, let the rhythm explode
Big, bad, and bold b-boys of old
Many styles we hold, let the story be told
Whether platinum or gold, we use breath control
So let the beat unfold, intro on drum roll
We be the Lik like E, Tash, and J-Ro
We harass mother****ers like we was the po-po
We can rule the world without Kurtis and still Blow
Finesse, from SP to Casio
Your jams ain't def, you ain't fresh, you're so-so
If you don't know us by now you'll never know
You set that mood when we groove and prove a show
The name of the game is survive and prove your flow
You can't out take Jurassic syllable
Cause it's survival of professional radio
Stop and comprehend and heed the words of my pen
Survival of professional poetical Highlanders
(Soup, you plan on rocking something fierce?) Oh, am I
Zaakir's the name, the A.K.A. super
The verbal acupunture from the **** old schooler
I used to be the bubble for others that used to dumb on
Now they be the lovers of brothers that can't front on
Put me in the mix, LP 12-inch
SP, the elegant, poetic pestulence
I'm carbonated, the Fanti-confederated
Highly commemorated, and the most celebrated
For connecting it (Word!) Like verb subject to the
predicate
Plus I got the etiquette
To keep it moving, and showing cats how it's done
Cause it's the verbal combat, position number one
We keep it beaming like a beacon, if it's clearance that
you're seeking
Whether black or Puerto Rican, people back us when
we're speaking
We got the kind of rhymes that get you ready for the
weekend
(To the mass amount of legions that came for party
pleasing)
Our temperature is freezing all kind of different regions
The rhythm is the reason you're checking for what we've
done
Please son, our thesis, will rip your crew in pieces
Your rhymes ain't right, homeboy, you ain't in season
Ayo my quality control, captivates your party patrol
Your mind, body, and soul
For whom the bell tolls, let the rhythm explode
Big, bad, and bold b-boys of old
Yo, yo, well it's the angelic man-relic clan repellent
My plan parent manuscripts withstand bullets
Flashing like a Japan tourist, we command pure hits
While you cramming to understand these contraband
lyrics
My fam submits to pray, 5 times a day
Climbing into your mind with live rhyme display
J5 finds a way to remain supreme
Coming verbally Hardison as if my name was Kadeem
Ayo my team Dreamworks without Spielberg or spill
words
Communicate from the Earth throughout the universe
I transmit, transcipts, transcontinental lyrics
Deeply rooted in your spirit
Up, I love the power of words, nouns and verbs
The pen and the sword, linguistik on award
No folklore or myths in my penmanship
The Panther Scholar Warriors is what I present, uh
Verbally decapitating those against a
Jihad Pisipili lama words make sense
You gots to get up on your vocab, you gots to have
vocab
Letters makes words, and sentences makes paragraphs
Yo, I make the pen capsize, the verbal with the planted
eyes
Planning knives ever pair that I utilize
Spit juice, crack blood from your tooth
Inflict truths, speak Allah's 99 attributes
You baby MC's drink Pedialyte
My underground doesn't like you, the media might
But we the elite will change that
As we bridge gaps in this lyrical grudge match, brothers
we slug back
Yeah, we bless tracks with the help of a raw rap
Inprinted like poor tracks all over your brain rack
My mental maneuver will clear and steer right through
ya
We Grand like Puba, understand that we move ya
Ayo, my rhythm reveal rollercoaster real deal
Revolutionize with active build
I plant my dreams in the field and wait to harvest my
skills
For the starving MC, hungry trying to get a meal
Ayo my quality control, captivates your party patrol
Your mind, body, and soul
For whom the bell tolls, let the rhythm explode
Big, bad, and bold b-boys of old
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