* currently only available in Japan or as an import
VERSE 1
Yo, yo, you wasn't payin' attention - them henchman hit the entrance
Trenchin', wasn't no means of intervention
A dollar bill will make a hundred-ten Yen, son
How much you willing to sacrifice to win, huh?
I personally done paid mine and then some
Climbed up an inch at a time, now who the Zen one
If not self, whom else could you depend on?
Friends gon' swear it's aight, and probably bend wrong
I've got them battlefield dents in my armor
A twitch from the drama, the trees, and bad Karma
But yo, I'm a precision procedure performer
We operate every night, and leave in the morning
To get you high as a kite is the reason you wanted
It's like, a direct flight from freezing to burning hot sh**
The audience fiend for this fix
And Krush come with the guillotine for this mix yo...
VERSE 2
Yo, who got they fingers on the carousel, locked in position
It's got to be my man, the turntable tactician
You all in a hush, silent, trying to listen
You wanna feel this realness, that reads "spittin"
It got ya head, splits ya eyes, can't stop twitchin'
The only thing that you can do is rock to the rhythm
Thought puttin' down, cuz he's the world-reknowned
See me lickin' rhymes, trappin' like I'm firing rounds
And um, you now in tune to this infinite sound
And um, the revolution poppin' off right now
I make you raise ya fist, raise an eyebrow
Raise ya fifth, and bust it at the flag like BLAOW
You f**-boy n***as tryin' to keep it on a hush
But Black Thought spit it cuz you people want the rush
You feel? That's why the audience fiend for this fix
And Krush come with the guillotine for this mix yo...
[Various soft-spoken words from Black Thought]
VERSE 3
Yo, I got that renaissance, turn-of-the-century choke
And I'ma do the people right if y'all just give me the vote
We finna ride, hang 'em high, Krush just give me the rope
See all the porcelain chase cats gettin' the broke
One at a time, now best focus on who the don
When your blade's sharp as mine and people want you to rhyme
And want you to spill, for me it's not nothin' for real
Me and my man runnin Japan, he tough on the wheel
He'll blow ya mind like bustin' the steel
I give the crowd somethin to feel
This sound got the power to heal
It's like The Green Mile, now I need an hour to chill
A quarter a k**, the bird while patrolling the field
I'm puttin' rappers out cold
I done rocked from Tokyo to the North Pole
Whenever my man program the pa**code y'all receive the fix
Ayo Krush come with the guillotine for this mix yo...
[Various soft-spoken words from Black Thought]