Yeah, to all the Jim Carrey ass large co-op KnowhatI'msayin? Large co-op, what the fuck? To the clones, we bless the domes Blow the vial, you know my style, large co-op Freestyle all the way son Dice
Verse One: M.A.R.S.
First of all let's talk about these ill capers And fly ass frontin bitches that now caught vapors Niggaz run up on you with guns, snatchin papers Outlined body chalk, is how they would scrape ya From off the pavement, I hate gettin locked up Cause that upstate bus reminds me of the slave ships But then the bible never saved shit I guess that's why every juvenile is in the same predicament You wanna slang crack, or hold tecs, and do the concept You can't make loot, when your moms is smokin up the product I try to tell ya, don't let these streets fuckin fail ya The way niggaz be gettin clapped shit'll fuckin scare ya But in the dark, we ran wild, so we killin em Niggaz scared, can't stand still, like fuckin helium Fake niggaz, they don't go platinum they go aluminum Got em cloned the fuck up son, that's why we losin em I'm lookin at this niggaz longevity To make a big play, but then it might be a mistake Cuz if I get sent to D.C., I'm sendin Dice to DE With three p's, so when I get out, he can see me For real, cuz the streets is filled with snakes and rats The snake will be that bitch and that rat will be that cool cat With swollen pockets we gonna take you back home Master Allah Rule Savior, never clone
Verse Two: Black Thought
Yo, I use the mic to slap you in the face and erase your taste Disgrace your date put your title to waste Dominant lyrical grace, from a place called wild Illadelph Isle Pensy, that's the residency Consist in currency, my pockets never empty Some cats, believe they MC but we know they all fraud Do a show in Philly niggaz wouldn't applaud Nobody know your record nor who you openin for Can tell your squad's artificial while approachin the door So you should prepare, for lyrical terror that's pure Step up to the resevoir, of the soul proprietor style Messiah or, the higher law down with Dice Raw The matador, shorty conniseur Stompin whatever you build to the floor Similar to that of a dinosaur I told you I'm the rap predator You insist to imitate, what for? Superstar niggaz is ten percent real, ninety percent invented For a fuckin record deal Comin with somethin veterans can't feel I hit you like a steel anvil Because you grafted off the next man's skill But still I remain mellow, seein the theatrics of Othello Run over tactics of the C-L-O/N-E-S fess The phoniest cats is felonious (word)
Verse Three: Dice Raw
Dice Raw the juvenile lyricist corner store terrorist Block trooper, conniseur of fine cannabis
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