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[Chorus] The concerto, of the desperado R-double-O-T-S check the flow If you know like I know then you know the motto That's all the fraud shit got to go/fake shit gots to go
[Verse One: Black Thought] In the glow of the moon, over the melancholy metro My poetry is set like a U.F.O. The maestro, the lyricist concerto My physical play the role of a vessel The level of my lyrics law manifesto My thoughts wrestle and attack with the killer instincts of a gorilla stronger than Samson Without vanilla my soliloquoy profess my ability to just stimulate you like the best sensimilla The halflife the Illadel-L-P-O-phila proceed hither is my death flower blow your tower to smithe- -reens to fiends catch another rhyme gripper Deeper than the meditations of a Hindu worshiper Unorthodox, hip-hop, minister Than a Serengeti cheetah my thoughts swifter you lose your balance when the sound hits ya So check for the, Fifth Militia A poet's under pressure stressin that you get the picture Even if it means you gotta hang over the banister I pull a microphone on any pistol brandisher And take advantage of ya because you amateur Styles gunning down your sound man and manager What?? This how we do it in the year for nine-six With this delivering attack on pointless rap shit Breakin MC's down to fractions, tell your squadron It's time to go to war, Respond/React
[Chorus 2X]
[Verse Two: Malik B] The implorer, the universe explorer Treat MC's like the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah Leavin these niggaz open like a box of Pandora With styles that's newer than the world order Approximately three quarters of y'all are water I straight deport ya Then orchestrate your torture with roots of culture The pill brimmage to the line of scrimmage up against your image Where life is a heist, and the strong get a percentage It's ill as a war and within it I'm the Lieutenant that surrounds you like a peninsula to snatch the pennant You fold like Japan's futons and fans While I design a plan to make a rapper step like a pedestrian I crush a mountain into grands of sand Your pain stains the hand that held the mic inserted to the stand The desperado, that refuse to follow The Fifth afficianado, break you up into parts like vibrato I deep like the dark of the night Niggaz is sweet and sound silly when they talk on the mic They use the simple back and forth the same old rhythm that's plain I'd rather UltraMagnetize your brain It's the hip-hop purist, that leave you lost like a tourist inside the chorus, niggaz is bringin nothin for us As we breakin em down to fractions, tell your squadron It's time to go to war, Respond/React
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