* 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]