Intro:
You better recognize what. Snatchh your f**in' head from your neck. Word
Up it's the cold blooded sin. Strickly murder. Legion of Doom 94. Word 'em
Up this is how we do that sh**. Techs to your record son. sh**. f** that
sh**. Word 'em up that how we're always been
50 Grand:
Yo check it, I feel the vibe like Shanet
Collaborate on n***as brains and bend you a** like a Sinse'
My d**h sentense is danger
I black out like Joe Ripken n***as hittin' the floor like the chamber
The sick authorist transmits for no repent
And activate the plan the Pentagon inelligents
So listen close like musical chairs
The L.O.D. is deep then the n***as Under The Stairs
I crack million dollar script like an archetict
And execute like the chair when I inflict d**h
I got the creepiest slang in this galaxy
And wreck the industry so mysteriously
Coming with the funk from beneath I creep straight for juggelars
And twist rap caps for all you motherf**ers
Walk the bloody streets with 19 shots in the lueger
n***as be scared to face 50 Grand like Medusa
The sh** I produce is like gin and juice when it blend
Scenes from Toni Braxton you'll Never Breath Again
I rhyme without ability to reason, n***as is guilty of treason
Who's to blame but the Legion to the Doom
Hook:
With punk n***as we got beef so
(L.O.D. about to take it to the streets)
On the mic we definatly got beats so
(L.O.D. about to take it to the streets)
Ron Jay:
Roy Jay go the wickedest mystic magestic flow
From a homicidal clique, Yo E make that psycopathic mix
I hits for the hecks or the sh** that causes conflict in the script
Beeotch my style set on fire to touch Venus
My soul seeks the universe while I'm sleepin'
I'm creepin' makin' myself develop with the chronic
Electronic Million Dollar Man the mic bionic
So you can feel it in your nerves when I blast off into the suburbs
Conduct like ? with electrofying words
I freak to them suicidal tracks break backs
n***as scarred fakin' f**in' heart atttacks
Oooh when I'm comin' through the crowd
n***as want static yo I got the gun pazoow, wizoow, word up
50 Grand:
I got the slaughter for your brains drive you insain
f** that sh**
News Interlude
Keith Murray:
The moderation incobation of my creation
Is instantaniously with my vocabulation accumulation
Trust me as I bust thee, lyrical homicidal sh** from Keith Murray
If I had 24 hours to live and one wish
I wouldn't wish for no damn lifesavers
I'd start going wild like Larry Davis
The funk speach vigalante from the L.O.D
Gets funky freakly and freaky fluently
And deep as Greek mythology on level Z
Theres six million ways to die
And eight million stories in the naked city and all them sh**s are lies
So I keep my wittiest ironist hidious
Psychosis bloodiest flow Thucydides
Comin' from out this orbit deep space 9's wiggle my sh**
Meltin' crew down like synthetic acid
Come half steppin' fession' through a section
And get the midsection of your brain drain
With mad man expression, no quesion and no second guessin'
Outro:
Yo 40 dreams and blunts for witches. Yeah that's what we got for them
n***as. Yo lets get on it get off it. L.O.D. we won't forfit
A-yo check it out. L.O.D. is the n***as man. A-yo put your money where your
Mouth is at n***a yeah. I have you rockin' dazie dukes and Reebok pumps
n***a yeah, yeah. L.O.D. style for 94 yeah and it's on