[Produced by JP Beats]
[Verse 1: Crooked I]
Look, how many beats I gotta put in the casket
Before you understand instrumentals get their a** kicked?
I'm that sick, I'm a backwards cased basket
I'm a basket case, n***a, irate ba*tard
And I'm strapped, b**h, a ball hog in the hood
So don't talk to me about that ghetto pa** sh**
This n***a's past it, my clique is ma**ive
And f** spitting acid if I haven't written cla**ics
Steady repping the West, while Cali rappers say that's played out
You n***as' spaced out
Type of n***as we leave laid out, throwing up a dub
Stomping your face out, that's for the life that you ain't 'bout
You n***as' marks like Zuckerberg and Sanchez
Listenin' to every f**in' word that a fan says
I think you boys' soft
I think a real fan wanna hear that real sh**, if not, turn my voice off
It's Crooked
[Hook]
You are now consumed by the dark side
So welcome to the belly of the beast
All my n***as eat MC's up for lunchtime
And we'll never be ready for the peace
This is for all y'all b**h-a** snitch n***as
That front and always tellin' the police
Ain't no place in this world you can run or hide
To escape the belly of the beast
[Verse 2: Flawless the MC]
Call me Spartacus, In this art I'm just a martyr, plus
I hit hard as a car crash with a charter bus
Y'all just anonymous, don't even try to start a fuss
Because I'm large enough to step down, crushing you all to dust
Flaw's the illest and I put that on my daughters cause
I'm hungry, like the effect I get that marijuana does
In this game, you'll be [?]
So even with Stan Lee fighting Marvin Hagler, you couldn't marvel us
I'm flipping off everyone who scoffed at my sh** and tock
Cause I'm a time bomb with a ticking clock, and the sh** just stopped
So if I'm pissed or I'm blowing up like a blister pop
It's just Hip Hop is infested with posers like picture app
So you can go on and kick up rocks
I'll bet it all, you couldn't set it off with fireworks hooked to Vivica Fox
See when I hitch I'll split your knot
Cause I'm f**ed up and cold like I eat Dippin' Dots topped with a liquor shot
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Nino Graye]
Spit my flows like I'm walkin' around with the Alzheimers
I ain't worried 'bout these small-time rhymers, who?
No imagery and no substance, gimmicky
Young and seein' victories like witnessing Christopher Reeves runnin'
They'll never take number one, these s**ers silicone titties
They just look good fakin' and frontin'
They ain't been strugglin', hustlin', pockets with nearly nothin' in 'em
f**in' sick and tired, prayin' somethin' was gonna finally give in
Spit 'caine, every 16, raw is on display
They'll stick veins, pick up a CD, put it on and hit play
I'm a think tank, you know what this means, stay out my 'kin way
We shot callin', blockin' your entry, nickname Dikembe
'Bout that time, we drawin' the f**in' line
Bullsh** stops here and y'all on the other side
Nino Graye one of the elite, almighty brotherhood
Midwest royalty, just so we all understood
[Hook]
[Verse 4: Canibus]
Zuckerberg, I heard you're a s**er for words
Plus you're a perv, the facts just emerged
Sensitive data denial
Get shot on YouTube or go viral, so how did they find you?
Concussion after confession, gold fever, old school westerns
In any group, I'm the loneliest member
Thoroughbred stallion, Jamaican mountain music they named him 'til they cut his legs off and framed him
Step into that digital vortex
The scorned vet judged by generations that ain't even born yet
Read faster than most talk
Write slower than the aardvark walks and squints with the card sharks
A room full of mad professors who study language forensics
Intradependent on phonetic directions
Quick draw, aggressive, really am I on the offensive?
I'm just a Marlboro man from Memphis
Surrounded by firewalls, strong defenses
On Mars with ice cubes and Natasha Henstridge, Canibus
[Hook]