Verse 1: Heems

I'm from Cop Killer

Never killed a cop, though

More the type to burn a spliff and eat a bag of nachos

More the type to read a novel, maybe 'bout Navajos

On a sunny day I'm on the block in a poncho

Venomous, extra sick

Tell me how my bars feel

Talk shit, tell me how the floor of the bar feel

Young cocoa butter

I'm fresh as new car smell

Cynical lasagna loving cat

Call me Garfield

Graffiti goes legit streets

Spray tags for soup cans

I paint Marine Green Newport packs

Now who down?

Three brown, the slim thang

I need a brand new van

To torso they can make enough funds to send a Sudan

Spraying copyright symbols on yoga mats

Until I'm high enough

To type a bunch of rhyming words

To tell you how I'm fly and stuff

Writing racial rants

Craigslist, start the race war

Highest space dog, wildest three cage boys

Mom Dukes never told me to go to my room

A wild juvenile, she threatened to send me to Dehradun

That's in the motherland

Her lover-dad hit me with a broom

Black and blue, at school

Where white kids call me dune coon

I'm still living this shit

Something like a pigeon and pissed

Scribblin' some lip words

To a script, literal shit

Belittled, we get

Hit quick, you little dick

Kicked in, Just for giggles and shits

Verse 2: Kool A.D.

Aright, what's up?

Papa watch me on Google Alerts, hi dad!

I'm at the Whitney with DJ Spooky, on an iPad

Shotgunning schlitz in a woman's can

And catching some catch as you can key bumps from the bug-eyed man fan

Can, can, can you do the smarty-pants can-can?

So you think you can dance?

Here is your stinking advance

Back ends, tap them, stack ends

White people, play this for you black friends

Black people, smack them

Moose spoonin' with candy flippers

Whomever the edible panties fit

Gets the candy glass brandy-snifter

Shake hands with fans that demand a picture

Like, 'Hey man, hey man

Are you Himanshu, or Victor?'

Soul dudes, show crew, home brews, coal crew

Kool A.D., living contradictory since '83

Arkansas street, like a block from the projects

HP some more blocks from some other projects

Tally meter so we not by the projects

Now look at me, getting Nas for my projects

The brother's logic is stop when you got it

But I don't, got it yet

So I'm not gonna stop it

Street freak-a-leak

Socialize with the fetally

Meek shall inherit the earth

Earth shall inherit the meek

You can stare at the street

But the street stare back at you

Top greasy, somebody take a crack at you

Act the fool, somebody finna laugh at you

Like dude

I don't like your ****ing attitude

Verse 3: El-p

Gangster computer god

Mindslaught's my pseudonym

**** anyone giddily, giggle, simply misery

Fellings whittle ***** pitches

But where the juicy tag

First to always be the great choosy Brooklyn or Lucy Brown

Harbinger of the bum rush

Plus oozin' away a ton of more

Buddy cops kiss each other

Pedo arrests, priests **** whores

Let's set the moral compass to something a little sacrilege

I'm Pirate Jenny this whole town

Black Freighter, I'm maggin' this

Nobody sleeps tonight

Keep your car alarm evening

Perpetual garbage track

Annoying ice cream truck jingling

(Hey odd world)

Conscious got donkey-punched by aristocrats

Maniac, brainiac, fist-****ed in a dunce cap

Looking at it from space, you can the race is just one lap

The tranquility now is just future anarchy, unhatched

I'm on a new ** plus alternate reality

Some dimensional shifting

It's hidden from all the cowardly

Gypsies read the palm and they vomit

They give me back my dollar, hollerin'

"Oh God! Get out you monster!"

Mumalo covered a song and it's a running joke

My comedy is common is as greymatterConverted into runny yolk

I'm not in the mood (stop)

A lot more to rue (raw)

Hot rod of intoxicants (roo!)

Gobblin' your food (gone)

Applaud to the truthiness

Truly I'm a lost boy

Half-man, half-smoke

No joke, got it on -boy

Take your little sad poopy-pants to the corner toy

I'm gonna bring a blaze, bleeder burn a bridge, burn a boy

Sit down!