[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]