Intro
Ayo...(what's up?)...there's a lotta motherfuckers out here
with a style similar to mine nowadays you know what I mean?
(For reals) Be tryin' to like...they infiltrated the camp
and now they they wanna take the style and claim it for they
owns ya know? (That's how you feel?) But I'mma blow'em up
'cause it's just like whatever you know what I'm sayin'? (Whatever)
First Verse
It's too strategical and mathematical
I rotate so fast that I appear invisible
I keep it chemical, but never subliminal
The force centrifugal and spiritual
You got static? Get grounded, 'cause I've mastered electrical
Mostly mental, but don't sleep on the physical
Ignorance got'em chatterin', one even said I was a son to him
Still my LP is fatter than
his or yours, took a two-year pause
Now that I'm back on the set my foes drop like hoe's drawers
in a brothel, only dealin' with what's logical
Applied science left MC's penetrable
The leader's stroke is apocalyptic
Hostile like Arabics in Israel with automatics
And if you want it, the Monks can make it hectic
Set it off, fire burn up Jack Frost and Santa Claus
Whatever you want to do, make it clever
Whatever, whatever, whatever
[Primo Scratching]
(Unknown): "And to all y'all crews...whatever"
Second Verse
Bound to blow up, but never disintegratin'
The ultimate MC equation
Ferromagnetic, ask my pops, it's genetic
That's why I'm a weedhead and not an alcoholic
Call it whatever you want to call it
Devils just know that it's some form of arithmetic
Hieroglyphic, 'c
