Yo Kris.. yo, where that shit at yo?
That ol' ill shit

[Verse One]
I'm buildin foundations like a mason, I rock
The texture of my architecture connects the dots
It's the blueprints of sense, {?} submit
Rough and rugged so yo fuck it, my armor can't get dent
But tech

Yeah ha.. we vibin'
Channel livin' all day ha c'mon
Yo its me the m-e-t-h uh o-d
????
Sniff a whole key
My coke deep
Be my consciouss tellin me it dont make sense
Then guard his nonsense
A niggas best defense is his offense
So yo I watch po po
And duck a d

(Get the flavor get the loot and let's beat jet it)

Intro:

What you do when you gotta make paper?
Kill to make a mill then people hate 'cha
Run that game kid before you go like vapor
Get that loot save that legal shit for later

Verse 1:

If money is the

[Verse One]
My shit is thick like a wooly headed black Jesus
I was born to win skills like my nappy stuff
But when I gots my nappy stuff I got a flake or two
These irritatin flakes, I wipe them out the whole crew
Shinin through like the coconut, all on my scalp
Hey these

[Intro: KRS-One]
Uhh! Yeahhh
I know you're diggin this type of shit right here

We about to spark it on the mic, yeahhh
Come on!

{*scratched 4X: "All we do is spark mad izm"*}

[KRS]
The episode starts when I walk down the block kid
Reach in my poc-ket, yo whe

/ Ms. Toi

Wilin in the club smoking hash with my niggas
???? liquor put my mack on a strippa
But she gasped on a a nigga flashed me her figure

Ready to take this bitch in the bathroom and hit her
This other nigga stepped up tryin to rap on a nigga
Tryin to battle spit

[scratched x2:] "Reprogram"

[Verse One]
Internalize, externalize, check the exercise
Kick the lyricals, the buddha smoke, help me reach my high
My eyes bloodshot, buckshot, for the props
Say what you didn't know tell me why'd you sleep on Hak'
I'm not Sealy Posturepedic

What's your station identification
I spark a mental cypher lasting down through revelations
Take a trip into my mental cypher, I get hyper
Sniping-ass MC's, seem to get me higher
Like the buddah, bless the cess when I'm smoking

Hawaiian when I'm rhymin cuz there ain't no ti

Comin live and direct..

What! What! What! What! What! What! What! What!
What! What! What! What! What! What! What! What!

[Verse One]
Some rappers, would they be without the use of the word nigga?
Time to make the switch, from the word bitch
Here's the message, catch it

[Verse 1:]
We be the live ones
You dont wanna try son
Cause the rhyme come
Like a nine gun

You can die young
Hide lungs
Til the seventh sign come
Shine son like a diamond
I'm harder than one by one
Flew flicker, Crew licker
Shoot quicker, Loot getta<