Kardinal Offishall - Murderous lyrics

[Intro: Kardinal Offishall] Murderous! Kardinal Offishall and Talib Kweli with a new syllabus T. Dot, BK stand the f** up let's go Black Jays It's Kardinal Offishall my n***as Black Jays is the team [Verse 1: Kardinal Offishall] The fireman fire starter rocks harder Lyrical jihad sh** hard living on the boulevard First hand man with a plan stand up! Get the f** out your Benz Clean your third eye lens Got signed Carties still living in the hood f**ed up the industry like it's all good Ever since I came out and rocked the party Every blood clot rapper want [?] Anyways, in many ways we display sh** That's hard to look at like ultraviolet rays I stays clean, never fiend for the green If it f**s with my Lou, Black Jays makes a scene Easy we breeze through your hood Mixtapes to pa**port, eat whack n***as for sport Since the days of jam sports me and [?] The plan gave up the hoes, I don't f** fans But I f** with ‘em though, let ‘em know T. Dot coming for the title destroying in stereo Mono mono e mono mind your brain get throttled 21 and over like a hennesey bottle Me and Talib got dibs on the top spot Air force ones fresh the colour of crack rock Rocking your concrete sometime soon Black Jays in your area hungry like noon Muthaf**ers [Verse 2: Talib Kweli] International collector of capital Pa**port pay unnatural black radical Chilling in Canada when I spit the flow I get more chicks in Toronto than a Little X video I cross the border with a bird or two It's personal I got a little merch in this commercial too What you say perishable in court is inadmissible Break it down everything you spit is bull, it's pitiful to watch I stand out in a city full of hot young spinners Blow the spot with the best of the T. Dot, yea Kweli and Kardinal rock with the official We sharper when we hit and can't stop to blow a tissue Doing way more than an'you What I spit is finna split you in two It really don't matter how vocal is you I'm not to be confused with those who know Provoke the issue attack, I blast back like Africans in Mogadishu In fact, our flashback's bringing out the Nat Turner in me Where's the people what's the word in the street? I smash king's the man atop of your throne Your girl's riding my poem I'm like hip hop's Oliver Stone From the 718 where the trees grow leaves To fall and change colours like the [?] You be lookin' like a scene out a Spike Lee flick You ain't f**ing with it, you ain't tight we sick