[Jay-Z: cut and scratched] "You know the whole repertoire" [Mr. Eon] Catch the Raid, intoxic from roach spray I puff on Mr. Slithers, now you're gay like Waylan Smithers I be Mr. Burns, huff trees and cei-lings Destroy any race, color, creed I come wit readings, ?atour? selections, bent erections The outcome is known just like fixed elections [Cage] I make cake like conjuctive-itis Yo can't see me wit your pinned up eyelids I burn in all climates Got chicks wit grips stuff crystal up they sinus I pull your insides out like Polo parka liners Twice birth-ed, questionably earth bred dumb Develop new scars on my neck from where I first lived [Mr. Eon] Intention's be synical, outshine the critical This spherical miracle, wit cadence that's greatest Debate this, ?each case? is serial rapist And Dick Starbuck, now your town run amuck We pillage ya village, snatchin up smurfettes And s**in on they titties like chicken croquette [Cage] I saw three cuties, gettin molested at the movies I would of broke it up but the attackers was my stroogies No conscience like I'm solace I stay up in boxes like New York's homeless I run train wit split personalities Wit connected at the knees, siamese an*logies [Chorus] [Cage] "I'm obvious oblivian but that's my science" [Mr. Eon] "Could you possibly fathom what the dome be equipped with" [Mr. Eon] "I bring it, to the head piece-piece" [Cage] "Agent Orange, stompin on MC-C" "I'm obvious oblivian but that's my science" [Mr. Eon] "Rippable fact" "Agent Orange" "Rippable fact" [Mr. Eon] "Sinister" [Cage] You s** like a sucabus, I write rhymes in incubus To blow your Face Off, courtesy Cage not Nicolas But mad Christialist, Sunday's rock black bathrooms Pimp sh** like warlocks in washington clothes Heads make blood pressure, pop vessel stretcher Bring dead as the sixth starters, digest ya [Mr. Eon] Your fake illusion be strictly optical My optimal intake is always optimal Eliminatin pussies, call me gynecological Removin velopians, call me hysterical ?Hits erectemy's? a remedy, peep streadily Mic in my hand is where the metal be [Cage] In a unfulfilled quest to find out who's tightest On the run, yeah I spray cats like grafitti writers I spit phrases, painted wit tainted day-es Pontius Pilate/piloting plane for sem-sane Plus Cage is the aviator Alex the Great'll k** desader Masacous lyricist DJ with his own fader [Mr. Eon] Reap havoc on the mic like Haman's in Jerusalem Wit napalm, and the pipe bombs, we be doin em But cover up like flab on abdominal Now you wanna smoke the E, I deal in chronicals Watch the watch, while you peep the hypnotics Now my conscience be obnoxious if you knock this [Chorus]