[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]