[Verse 1: Gripp]
It's not easy being the best at sh**. That type of stres'll
Make Professor X want to get an exorcist just to get a rest from it
I've always been a success; anything less than this is a pestilence
A pessimist, yes. But the pressure presses me to be excellent
You're looking like a mess next to this, inhaling asbestos
While having incestuous s** and birthing one of Uncle Fester's kids
You're unimpressive. I'm restless. 'Til I'm senescent
I'll be treating these sentences like they were deadly weapons
Uh... most of these wack rappers' topics are so myopic
Stop it. That's too easy for me; that's why I knock it
Put away your dollar stacks, bling-blings, and holler backs
Thought I could master postgraduate math but not your style of rap? No
I'm iller than most that rap in the game
I want to be the dopest one with letters after his name
That's just my mindset. So dig deep; there's no telling
What you could find next. Might uncover design specs for Skynet
[Verse 2: Jack of Co.Z]
Copy that. Track Terminator at your service
Pop up on your time map, murder hip-hop. Rap deserved it
Jack Bauer by the hour, k**ing rap insurgents
Quick I'm Anakin turning to Darth Vader. You can't preserve me
Gripp put me on this sh** 'cos he knew I'm slick at bragging
And to most you hip-hop listeners that means I'm sick at rapping
b**h I'll redefine your wackness quick. My rhyme scheme's thick. I practiced it
I don't use my money, man; I use my mind to mack a chick
A little alliteration, my literature's amazing
I get it at you, I spit it at you. Better cover your face when I spray it
Spit flames, I blaze it, but Gripp told me to chill
For this tape I'ma tell it to you real
I don't trap. I don't front. I don't k**
But ya'll consume those similes like pills
So now I'm out in Hollywood tryin'a thrill
With this mic. Got that sh** that you like I'm tryin'a do
[Verse 3: Baba Brinkman]
Don't call me "conscious rap", 'cos I'm not just that
I'm not gonna drop a philosopher's name in a clause and claim that it stops with that
Suffering Socrates your brain is succotash. It's soft
In fact, I'm consciousness explained, the-physical-basis-of-consciousness rap
So step back as I kick a lyric with the verve
Bittersweet symphonic words until the shift in perspective occurs
And when it matures like government bonds, I'll pull the anchor up
And drift away. Your mental state is Detroit bankrupt
Like Scientology science policy. So try and follow me
The Spaghetti Monster is flying calmly behind my anthology
My psychology's villainous. The beat is a victim; I'm probably k**ing it
Adaptive, psychopathic, obnoxious, and polysyllabic
They call me a novelty 'cos I'm rapping above the average dunce
That's fine. Some novelties blow up. sh**, so were mammals once
I couldn't dumb it down if I tried. But I still learned how to survive
By seeking out a like-minded crowd of rhymers proud to be out of their minds
[Verse 4: Gripp]
I'm super hot; compare me to liquid tungsten
Your output ain't the same; I must be a different function
When the kick is thumping, I'm ripping up any interruption
So you'll be giving up before rushing to fisticuffs
And I'ma lift them up. The zeppelin flow is so ineffable
The technical sk** it takes to dissect you? I possess it, yo
Look, I know rappers who think they're ready for camera light
But can't handle the task of learning to use their sampler right
So stay back all of you Sajaks and Vanna Whites
I will go bananas from Boston down to Atlanta. Hype
I got the crew out in the 'burbs going ape sh**
I'm talking way out in the cut like a platelet
So what you say to this? Ain't it just so amazing?
The type to turn your basement out like it's a f**ing gymnasium
I'll pack a stadium like my cranium full of facts
Like titanium smashed so fast right through your wooden bat