[Intro: Killer Mike]. Let's Go!. Huh?!?. Huh?!?. Huh?!?. . [Verse 1: El-P]. *Missing Lyrics*. . [Verse 2: Killer Mike]. *Missing Lyrics*. . Related. .
Right for right, wrong for wrong. This is clearly not life's design. Figure out quickly that nothing gets answered. When you ask the universe why. Life is a journey, but living's the worry.
You walk into this room at your own risk, because it leads to the future, not a future that will be but one that might be. This is not a new world, it is simply an extension of what began in the old one.
Beware of horses. I mean a horse is a horse of course, but who rides is important. Sitting high with a uniform, barking orders, demanding order. And I'm scared that I talk too much about what I think's going on.
Say, "Dad, uncle El, stay gold". Dad, uncle El, stay gold. . I got a bad girl. I got a brain-with-an-ass girl. She got a mean bop, I got a lean to the way I walk.
I'll flood the speakers with heat seakers. And keep sneakers cleaner than nunnery pussy evening of Easter. I'll leave my prints on her keester, I suck the clit and release it if it will please her.
Gun in the holster be. Right in the upholstery. Somewhere right close to me. Just in case the rollers be. Rolling on the G. My woman keep it in the hosiery.
Hey, hey k-. Hey kids!. (This is so crazy!). . Say hello to the masters, on behalf of the classless masses. We showed up, ski masks, picks, and axes to murder asses.
Take it easy. . Excusez-moi bitches. I'm lit from the last of the gas, Mike twisted. No sleep for the vicious, key up a cop car just to see mischief. I'm a nut punch wizard.
I hope (I hope). I hope with the highest of hopes. That I never have to go back to the trap. And my days of dealing with dope. So I, I always spit fire and dope.
Run the jewels live at the garden. Lickin' off shots and we aim for the darkness. Make it get hot for a target. Kids cook s'mores off the crotch of our targets.
Hello from a Little Shop of Horrors. Ski mask like a Phantom of the Opera. Go cold like the land of Chicago. Child soldiers sprayin' the chopper. But you don't give a fuck, that's them though.
I'll flood the speakers with heat seakers. And keep sneakers cleaner than nunnery pussy evening of Easter. I'll leave my prints on her keester, I suck the clit and release it if it will please her.
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Now come over here and let me give you a tongue kiss on your hot pocket.... Me and Mike'll go Twin Hype and do a dance on your windpipes. Put your fucking jazz hands back in your pants and get them shits sliced.
Reminicin' on our time of innocence. When we drank that Hennessy, ate on lamb and vension. Face fucked you in your kitchenette, fucked you like we tusslin'.
Really fell out the lane with this shit. Man, print this shit: I'm a misfit. Got a style from the guts of the most irrational beast in the district. Born to the next gen system.
Oh dear what the fuck have we here?. These motherfuckers all thorn no rose. Egads what a bad dream better not sleep. Take a No-Doz, do some blow. Oh shit what the hell have we done?.
I've seen Ak-47s. I've seen sawed off shotguns. I've seen all of this. I've seen dynamite on the streets. . Surrounded by violence and murder. Say, we in the streets and we grippin' on heat.
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