[Intro: Bronze Nazareth] Yo, yo, turn my sh** up a little bit, man Yeah, like right there and sh** [Bronze Nazareth] Yo, my impacts that fracture bones and pierce stones Reports by Peter Jennings, on your desk when the sun arose That's deep like a fall from heaven, the call from your reverand Stranded in Baghdad, aggressive as keg blast Silent as sounds as thrusts from a shank stab Move in waves like a puma's shoulder blade I amaze, I'm amazed, find your ways through the minor haze Photographic chapters from a pall pit Write on the walls of my mind, inside my skull pit Piss cloudy like London skies, I wonder why I don't drive that jet black four five [Kevlaar 7] Who can f** with me on the table of elements Hand me a mic and I'll melt MC's irrevelant Tentaments and projects, throwing up my logo I rhyme degrees equivalent to breathing an inferno Slow burn, running dues and mics, my turn I carry sound barriers, that's none of your concern I flip moods like nuns with guns, goons and good The hero disposition, superhero with a hood [Phillie] Battle the best of them, ignore the rest of them k**ed about a million MC's, maybe less of 'em Then my dogs taught me, cover my tracks When it's war time, with more rhymes, to counter attack My word play, similar to sh** in Iraq Get blown off the map with no chance to fight back Man down, chip a tooth biting my style Had a lock the same before, yo kid, what's up now? [Bronze Nazareth] I creep low, pull heat slow out with heat throw I teach the seeds through you, leak if you need to Proceed to build, far cathedrals where trees grew My thoughts are jagged, slice helmets in Hebrew I watch the hands turn, counter clockwise So I can look back on the future and learn I told you lines small as spines, jam knives, rush revolvers I'm tough smothered in teflon marauders A world's mother, carry Atlas on my back Throw a shank through your fuel tank, crash ya plane wax [Phillie] Roots up, come through masked and blue truck Still mashing, any shape, form or fashion Outlasting, all those, that profile and pose Like hoes, in the front row, of one of my shows Phillie oh so, rapper slash hustler, kid Ain't a man alive touching the kid, get off that And into some sh**, trust me, I'm as ill as it get Go for your guns, prepare to be crushed, trust none [Bronze Nazareth] I'm a man of many hats, black hoodies, no furs Want a chaffeur that blow herb all on the curb When the sun shine, I want mine, away from heaven Spitting lazer beam schemes that'll blind ya vision My dividens, medallion cartel suited pipes Don't shoot the dice if you ain't nice, follow the script Rust Detroit, a warfield of concrete trenches The bullet holes, ski masks and backdoor entrance This is it, I wrote it, a poet lauriete With a semi loaded tech, when I speak, rhymes eject [Kevlaar 7] No love, but a slug, for these pussies, try'nna push me Over the edge, and out of my head, pronounced head But, we don't die, we expand to foreign lands Come back with rich for the fam, and break 'em down in grams For the street team, loyalty, guns and roses To hand out the casaulties of war, we soldiers Full of that hydro smoke, it's over With gats going brat-brrr-rat, where ya k**as at?