[Intro: Skinslaya]
Jealousy, lies and deceit
Step to me with that sh**, it's an instant a** beat
[Goodfella Mike G.]
Gone are the days of the real emcee
But how can it be? It's like a mystery to me
First thing's, for sure I damn well know
Rappers be all about sk**s, but forgot about the funk flow
Don't get wrong, sk**s are great!
But yo, I haven't bought a rap record since 1988
So like El DeBarge, I "turn the page"
Revamp the chapters dating back to hip hop's golden age
I strove the archives and revive the art
Cuz I can only feel the real with sparked from the heart
Our principles give presence to the essence of rap
My mic technique's, bada-bing boom-bap!
A bragadocious metaphor conglomeration
Hardcore beats, loop & troop to form a whole new creation
Stick to my guns, kick the genuine rhymes
Taking desperate times, to withstand desperate times
[Chorus: Skinslaya]
Jealousy, lies and deceit
Step to me with that sh**, it's an instant a** beat
You can't do sh**, if you can't stick together
Desperate times, for desperate f**in measures
[Blakspik]
Who be them cats talking that ra ra sh**
With all that blasphemous talk they need to step to the left
There's no more real rap just fake cats with fake raps
Actin'' refined but in the dark they eatin the swine
So who's the k**er now with mad body counts
It's cool to smoke wools cop dope and act like a fool
But I don't carry no burners to look rough
Or smoke no la la so I can look tough
I just maintain like them old school brothers do
Rap is slippin' so whos the A and R trippin'
This is the sounds that we created
Translated from true to life scenes, verbally stated
So call the cavalry cause we's about to go to war
And get your wig split my crew is kind of desperate
[Chorus]
[Infamous Mr. Savage] (Storm Da Ghetto Mutant)
Nineteen ninety somethin
The year of the studio gangsta fakin and frontin
It's open season on you b**h rappers im goin huntin'
It's war between real hip-hop and rap
Wreck shop or wack, fist fights and carry gats
My mind reacts to notes upon the track
That take me back to 1988 when the scene was fat
Nowadays you got these little a** n***as actin like they
Bigger fakin on triggers, it all look good in pictures
Which which is which that kid who shoots his lip
But in the face of beef switch up turns b**h (And changes pitch!)
The apocalypse for style biters and criminals
Stop s**in' the next man's dick and be original
Following trends the agenda of a beginner
Heard Wu-Tang Clan now everybody is a five percenter
Disrespectable non intellectual
It's desperate times kid guard that knot before I step to you!
[Chorus]
[G-Clef Da Mad Komposa]
How can we keep our composure
While all sorts of forces bought up our exposure?
I showed ya, back in '95, we wasn't playing
What we was saying, reorganize with no delaying!
Learn to use your head, got to be more careful
Read between my lines, you might just catch an ear full of fear
Known for putting words up in a tear!
Invisible Army, so don't ya try and bomb me I swear!
Word is bond, till d**h do us part
Don't start with this mystic tribe of j**elers!
I grill your physical form on my Hibachi
Your bones can't stop me, they're mummified in Versace
And Gucci, ya'll ain't bu*t, ya'll is pucchie
Heed this sacred text, not to be taken loosely
h*mo-not-genius, h*mogenous genocidist
Fake insiders that incite us, and invite us to recite this
I lure 'em into my trap, now I know they're working for 'em
Novus Ordo Seclorum
[Chorus 2.5X]