1.4.0. Productions feat. King Just - This Is Hip-Hop

[Hook: King Just singing]
Hey yo, you got mad flow, you gon' get dough
Light that endo (Come on say it again!)
Hey yo, you got mad flow (You know you got it!)
You gon' get dough, light that endo (Come on say it again!)

[King Just]
You done lit dynamite on Mr. Excite
You been rappin' for a long time and don't sound right
Not quite as the hype that you recite
Mr. All Day, I do it to ya ass all night
On sight, I smash anything you write
With canine teeth for niggas who back-bite
Walk to the light and bring ya mic
You won't last one minute in a ten round fight
The Al Qaeda type that'll snipe ya windpipe
And seize ya General and strip him of his stripes
Either you men or mice you gon' still pay the price
So take my advice and roll the dice
Real life, still trife
Walk with a gun, talk with a knife
Double CD so you could buy me twice, hold tight!
And you just might take flight
MC's got left while you think they not right
Hang-glide like a kite on the turnpike
with two bad bitches that suck Dick Van Dyke
Pay per view satellite is a need to feed my appetite
Pick up ya weight cuz you ain't got the hype
Battle me? You need an invite, black or white
And I still drink a 40 with Ike
I still smoke a Lee joint from Spike, aight?
I'm the reason why Coca Cola gonna have to fuckin' remix the Sprite
He's nice! And safe like Chinese rice
If I'm the shit on the stick, you the baby wipes
You the Latter Day Saints, I'm the Poltergeists
I'm the whole damn pie, nigga, you just a slice
This is a heist, I suggest you remove ya ice
before you be Up Close and Personal with Christ
Get on ya Big Wheel bike and take a hike
cuz around these parts, you not liked
Parasite, don't have me flex my mic
I don't rock Air Force 1's, I call air strikes

[Chorus: King Just]
This is Hip-Hop, this is who I am
You think I really give a damn? (Get 'em!)
Cuz we here to stay, KJ, man, I'm on my way
(Now everybody say..) This is Hip-Hop, this is who I am
Do you think I really give a damn?

[King Just]
Listen here, pioneer, lemme make things clear
Any cosmic rappers I'll blow out the atmosphere
We are Borg and we came to assimilate
Violate, annihilate, vindicate and get it straight
And once and for all, I'll give it to y'all
And shit on ya name like a bathroom stall
Number 1 draft pick without the b-ball
And the bigger they come, the harder they fall
If I was in ya era I'd still be a terror
The only nigga that could beat me is standin' in the mirror
You'd hear me clearer without the interferer
If I was in the woods fightin' a bear, help the bear
He's what's up! And you? You not
Ya old school like Rocky Johnson, I'm more like The Rock
The people's eyebrow, the people's elbow
If anyone fuck with the Just, hell no!

[Hook x2 w/ ad-libs]

[Outro: King Just]
Told y'all, KJ, everyday, all day
Around ya way, in ya hallway, puffin' John Jay
You see me say?

1.4.0. Productions feat. Crunch Lo - Trouble to Mc's

It ain't nothing, son, word up
You bitch ass niggas, you bitch ass niggas
All ya'll niggas need Oscars now
It's like 25 percent of ya'll, something, is live
Or something, you bitch ass niggas, you fucking corns
It's nothing, it's my spot, nigga

[Crunch Lo]
Can't none of ya'll niggas even fuck with me
I am everything that ya'll niggas ever wanna be
I'm the C.R. U-Niverse, C.H., when I spit a verse
Low Beneen flex like, Bo on a movie screen
Foreheads get sweaty when my team be up on the scene
They see us twenty deep, in the club with the heat
NFL niggas with the pads and the cleets
Waiting for the action, of course, the main attraction
Buck fifty star hat and shines get the yapping
Staten Island niggas make noise with the Zu
I bought all the 'Locs, the Gods and Damus
Soon to be at, a theater nearest you
I holla at birds, wave my guns at goons
Then it's twelve to twelve, with the little 12-12's
Crunch Lo, nigga, top shelf, clientele

[Chorus 2X: Crunch Lo]
East or West, I can flow with the best
I got more materials than tephlon vest
I'm a mess, from the W.B., ain't nothing troubling me
I'm only bringing the trouble to MC's

[Crunch Lo]
I paid a heavy cost, nigga, I ain't a douja
I'm a boss, nigga, big things to offer, nigga
You young at your post, shakey with the toast
I'm watching ya'll cats, I got eyes behind my back
Attack first, iron burst fast, last thing you see
Will be, the hot flash, then it's off
With your top, grab the stash
Now I'm off of the block, I got dough in the cut
I walk with a, a George Jefferson strut
I fuck beats like sluts, nasty hoes
Get stretched through the gut, ya'll niggas can't live, what
I ain't no fucking pawn, things'll get drawn
Aim for your torso, hold that, throw something at you
Through your throwback, *2 gun shots*
And no, that's not talking, I done walked the walked
And then waltzed it, I'm so exhaulted
I'm high ranked, it's Crunch Lo with the bank
I want this whole strip, a nigga whole list
I'm from the B, to the O, to the D, Y
Where the killas didn't die, they just multiplied

[Chorus 3X]

1.4.0. Productions feat. Molly-Q, Shawn Wigs - Poisonous Poets

[Shawn Wigs]
We've been on the map, since Ghost two-toned the wallos
Staten Island, murder one, bullet heads with hollows
Wiganomics, you know I always come with bottles
I'm so fly, I slap big stones in my goggles
And my names engraved in the glass, I T.C.B.
Cuz money come first in the stash
Blow hash in a chocolate Dutch, you wanna brag
About your magic stick, I got the magic touch
These ice cold bitches melt down when in my clutch
Grab the hammer, run through the street with ill grammar
Work the, springs on your mattress, baby, I got stamina

[Molly-Q]
Atlantic Ocean is my fish bowl, I got the globe
Robe and slippers, golden diamond district bitches
Dynamite slick, give a bitch a perfect figure
Gorilla dead arms, they call me Baby Magilla
The brilliant sport, complex rhyme deliver
Crime thriller suplex, under my pillow, two techs
To bust off, safety, streets tried to cage me
Blaze me, maybe, never thoughts running crazy
That's amazing, still can't catch me and I'm lazy
Playing with the purple haze, lady making babies
Paisley prints, couldn't see me throught the window tint
Only silhouettes, white widow and my cats is mid' now
Ain't that some shit, got my flick in your phone, bitch
Take it back, snapshots...

[Interlude: Sonny Bunz from 'Goodfellas' sample]
But I'm worried, I mean, I'm hearin all kinds of fuckin bad things
I mean, he's treating me like I'm a fuckin half a fag or somethin'
Im gonna wind up a lammest, I gotta go out on a fuckin lam
In order to get away from this guy? This ain't right, Paulie
I mean...

[Shawn Wigs]
Son, it's the Ruger, Mausberg verbal glock structure
Get out of line on my word, I'mma bust ya
Cuz I gracefully rap, I splenderly speak
I'm so modern, your style is so antique
And your chains all light in the ass, I rock a brick
With a showcase, nothing but stones in the glass
You all 'fast and furious', whole world curious
On how I be fucking with Ghost, why these birds just love me
Cuz I got a bag full of toast, and a pocket full of Ironmans
I done sold out the show, no seats in the stands
Fuck fans, we like family, drunk up in the wedding
But who the fuck got married, I just keep forgetting
Regardless, O take care of all my charges with the police
Cuz I ain't got time for the beast

[Molly-Q]
Through my eyes, I seen weed, cars and cash, Gold Nugget
Apple essence assets and wine glasses
Cassius hate makers, my guns be the fastest
Snorting cocoa off car dash, my face on club passes
Enterprise splash a comeback, 45 King
Pin down the pending, matching M.C.F. ring
Never catch me in the sting, my name, rings a bell
Shame on empty shells, Brooklyn wiz expels
Walking out the building, on some, get money prowl
Fresh cut, classy kick, we Dutch and a chow
Modern day slingshot, pull sling on 'em
Golfcart, pound exchange, in a rained out Yankee gameball park

[Outro: Sonny Bunz (Paul Cicero) from 'Goodfellas' sample]
You know this fucking Tommy all your life, who knows better than you?
This cocksucker's an arch criminal
I mean, when I leave my house in the morning, before I get to the car
I'm looking over both shoulders, this is no way to live
You know I"m no fence jumper, I'm around you all my life
You tell me what I gotta do, whatever the fuck I got to do
I'm going to do, no? (What could I do?
If there was something I could do, don't you think I would do it?
You know me, I would like to help you out, Sonny)
Tell him what we talked about

1.4.0. Productions feat. Othorized F.A.M. - Shot Me Down

That's right.. I see you
Aiyo, Wigs, you see him? Let's go him

[Lounge Lo]
Aiyo, loose goose, run with a deuce and set a truce
With a .38, damn Billy, why you had to crack the milli and skate
Damn, pardon a nigga, cuz I had to put the 15, AR on the nigga
My gun is a talker, and me? A Shaolin New Yorker
Fuck that, you can bring your balls and meet on the court
My girl taller, and all about the streets and the fork
And she know about the heat when it scorch, she got my back
And she always losed out, when peepin' the horse
And the guns are going off on the Staten, of course
Ask the police, how we get clapped on the cross
Of course, Park Hill hillbillies, Wild West
Jungle Nilz, Now Born, and them Stapletown dust phillies
We load the guns and plus we ready
And for a out of town nigga, that's a plus for heavy

[Molly-Q]
Yo, starving like Marvin Hagler, marvelous
Fabulous, five mic poetist, golden grips
Holding hits, writing what a wish, like a birthday gift
Blowing out candles, gamble, the rap Mickey Mantle
Money taker scrambler, smoking weed by the handful
Twelve bar vandals, open mics is what I ran through
Crack sneakers, wife beaters, benz white juice
See the leaning lay back, twisting reefer
Puzzle missing pieces, hustle like Jesus
Rap bible books, and preachers gotta bust they guns up in the breachers

[Shawn Wigs]
Yo, this is Staten Island, you can get crashed like stocks
Smack with a green machine, or some classic Reeboks
Rock a fox coat, keep a big heater in the lining
We in a big lead, O, we slid right past the minors
We major, rainbow Skittles, pack flavor
We spit and spaz the fuck out, what up neighbor?
It's the kings of cliche, muscled your DJ
Slid through the blocks, slapped the ones all on your PJ's
Bite your mic, tore the sole off your sneakers
Staten Island Stand Up, bust guns in the bleachers

[Crunch Lo]
So Park Hill, West Brighton, New Brighton, the Harbor
Stapleton, Port Town, forty cals and pounds
We on the mound like a pitcher, dreams of getting richer
Reach for the stars and found the big dipper
My niggas stand up, front and get blammed up
Ran a hundred deep in the club, we man up
The gemstar spitter, I've never been a quitter
I run real close and throw the toast to your liver
A heatwave, or I give you a close shave
At close range, muthafucka, playing no games
We keep the metal spraying, more than Olympics
Our thoroughness is vengeance, we going hard
From four quarters, relentless
We been this live, nigga, no monkey jive
We fuck queen bees and conquer the bee hive
The modern day Hannibals, thugged out animals
Straight from the zoo, clear the whole block with the tech 22

1.4.0. Productions feat. Lounge Lo, Polite, Shawn Wigs - Back On the Grind

Yup, yup (aiyo) what? (Mike) uh (what up)
Lord, Ghost what up? (Yes lord) Starks Enterprise, I see ya'll
Cappadonna, I see you, it's Lounge Lo, uh-huh, Code:Red, let's go

[Lounge Lo]
It's a time to manage, gang bang still bananas
What you know about cocking them hammers, I'm bad manners
Red bandanas, block planners, and cop scanners
It's me O.B. from the top of the Grand Canyon
Code:Red/Enterprise, O.T.F.
Starks, I got you, it's Loco Left
With my dog C.W., see he trouble you
The art'll feed you Running Horse, I'm top gun
One car, one wiz, two girls, three sons
Crash on a nigga, smash on a nigga
Tell me how you feel if I come through jacking
In a two seat macking, one bitch, and one tech
With big respect, she a pro in the 'jects
Can you feel it? Nah, nothing can save ya
Cuz this is the season I'm catching my paper
Block my cream, homey, I'mma pop my steam
Ya'll niggas still fronting, damn, talk to me
It's Code:Red, daddy, walk with me
And I'mma tell ya, that I run with the Goon Swud
And I'mma tell you, stop shooting up at God
And it's me, L.O.B., on the M.I.C.
With the C to the Dub to the I to the G G

[Chorus: Lounge Lo (Shawn Wigs)]
Yo, we back on the grind (Patiently waiting
Cuz time is of the essence when you live in the streets)
Lounge Mode, Code:Red, we collide on beats
(C-Wigs, Starks Enterprise, looking for freaks)
And when the po come through we stash weed in the sneaks
(Son, we back on the grind) Patiently waiting
Cuz time is of the essence when you live in the streets
(C-Wigs, Starks Enterprise, looking for freaks)
Lounge Mode, Code:Red, we collide on beats
(And when the po come through we stash weed in the sneaks)

[Shawn Wigs]
I got money like Vegas, hit notes like a singer
Got a ill trigger finger, that's Carpul Tunnel
From Staten Island to Far Rock, son, I stack bundles
Grow Gurters in a fishtank under the sink
Got my name stitched deep in the sleeve of my mink
You can't think like the higher learning
I bless mics in church, pa, and youse invited to the sermon
Lord, BeJesus, tennis ball cuts in my Ceasers
Your crew stuck in Europe, cuz I stole they Visas
Got an album for all date releases
Aiyo esse, I lounge with my pants in creases
L.O.Bizzy, and Wigs is back
Fully blown on these streets like the war on crack
Too many soul soul awards, too small for a plaque
Shit the label gave money, I aint gots to give it back
Let's pocket the change...

[Outro: Polite (Lounge Lo)]
Yea, Goon Squad (that's right)
Uh-huh, Starks Enterprise (uh-huh)
Yeah, shout out to Loose Linx (hustle, yes, we do lord)
Icewater (uh-huh) uh-huh, uh-huh (yeah, baby)
Homicide Housing, Stapletown, Now Born, Wild West
Jungle Nilz (yes lord) Yes, yes (yes lord)
Donna Jay Bird (Othorized F.A.M., baby)
Uh-huh, Uh-huh (that's how we do up in this bitch)
T.M.F. (yeah) Yeah (stall it, we can't spoil it, baby)
Uh-huh (Shortre, 1.4.0., let's walk with him baby)
Uh-huh, uh-huh (we gon' talk with him)
Uh-huh, uh-huh (ya'll hear us, man, let's go, huh, get 'em)

1.4.0. Productions feat. Crunch Lo, Lace - Exclusive Darts

[Crunch Lo]
Aiyo, ten sets of fifty, ya'll niggas get with me
We bout to get gully, plan to snatch this money
Things get ugly in the hood for the goods
We been going to war, for the politics and raw
Break a nigga jaw, chop flows like a chainsaw
Here for the paper and another thing I came for
Is M.C. treachery, gas mask for my Tera Iz
Dirty Weaponry, the streets got the best of me
But on my worst day, I'm still, better than the average
Walked in a crowd, and blew myself like a Arab
Suicide bomber, I'm looking for Osama
Stick him for his dope and his power, make him build back
Them Towers, lead showers for the rule of the strip
Stay dipped, love the chrome with the two rubber grips

[Lace]
I'mma keep this on a serious tip
Let's talk about the drugs I flipped
The clips I hid, I'm the unsigned hype
Just check the blood type, got female MC's
Droppin' to they knees, like they saw God
It's a full time job to keep the streets wilding
Off my freestyling, reppin' Shaolin to the fullest
I'm spitting bullets, you lost control
You dropped your soul, 19 years on this Earth
Made the mental worse, I got suicidal thoughts
Due to hip hop's loss of real rappers, we gained slackers
Ain't it funny, how niggas talk about money
Before they cop a tail, let's keep it real
You still shitting in your diapers, you can never be like us
This is an empire that will make your life expire

[Crunch Lo]
Aiyo, ten sets of fifty, ya'll niggas get with me
We bout to get gully, plan to snatch this money
Things get ugly in the hood for the goods
We been going to war, for the politics and raw
Break a nigga jaw, chop flows like a chainsaw
Here for the paper and another thing I came for
Is M.C. treachery, gas mask for my Tera Iz
Dirty Weaponry, the streets got the best of me
But on my worst day, I'm still, better than the average
Walked in a crowd, and blew myself like a Arab
Suicide bomber, I'm looking for Osama
Stick him for his dope and his power, make him build back
Them Towers, lead showers for the rule of the strip
Stay dipped, love the chrome with the two rubber grips

1.4.0. Productions feat. Crunch Lo, Lenore, Molly-Q - Life Is a Mystery

[Molly-Q]
You got me stuck on, stupid, maybe shot by, cupid
Wonder Woman in the flesh, with a wrapped around dress
Real nails, not pressed, you got a princess smile
God sent flower sent, you gotta have my child
For a while, we just danced, laughed, body's an hourglass
Drink splash, ice ya breast, you said 'respect this'
I said 'no question', toe nail fetish, birthmark typed that this
Yo, I had to analyze this
No ring on her fist, if she is, he a fool
If she ain't, it's a gift sent by faith
Served on a gold platter, my first wish, bubble bath, rubbing on your ass
Pass the grass, ash falling in the water, don't splash
Baby girl, it'll last til the sun come up
Early morning buttercup, remember the first time?
At the round when you pulled up, robe and slippers
I miss you, ah, fuck this, I'll bring your mistress too

[Chorus: Lenore]
LIfe is a mystery, everyone must stand alone
I hear you call my name, and it feels like...
And it feels like...

[Crunch Lo]
You're my everything, like my money and my bling bling
I want you close to me, like you was my thing thing
I'm open like a window and a swinging door
I need more, so be my queen and don't be no whore
You fine, you make my life complete, like Ginuwine
So adorable, girl, you made my whole world
When I saw you, I just melted down, I put the drugs down
And got my life together, I'm switching like the weather
Hugs, loves, and kisses, please be my misses
I'm on one knee and this can't be me
I'm a ladies man, but I cut 'em all if you say yes
Dressing in my Sunday best, yea, I'm a mess
Without you I'm a half of nothing, yeah love
I be thugging and it got you bugging, rolling up the dub and
We can cruise in the park, like Jill-Scott, you make me hot
When you walk, when you talk, and we both love New York
Tyra Banks looking, thank God for good cooking
You my pumpkin, excuse me, I'm going through something
I'm Beneen, I'm extreme, I'm ReSan Kareem
I'm my mother's last child and I'm from Staten Isle

[Chorus 2X]

1.4.0. Productions feat. Crunch Lo, Lighter Shade - We in the Realm

[Lighter Shade]
Ya'll want to battle, so I'mma take the apple
Like actual shackles, strong for my satchel
DJ Skribble, I conquered Scrabble
I leave a stamp on, hip hop like cattle
From a chapel or back streets, fuck ya wack beats
Have ya screaming Jesus Chris'
When I turn to beast, your rhymes hollow
I come through and conquer like a stopper
Brolic like Hogan, golden
With sure respect, and wisdom, I stand a bold man
Die with honor, die with homage
I promise, I'm God's Godfather
Fuck with me, and you'll be a goner
Go to the streets, smoke a bag of that charmer
Live for the wreckless, die for my necklace
Four K-O-A-F, eat cats for breakfast
Pillage the land, have your shiny eye
Like them little white kids on Village of the Damned
One man, never route man, with my own plans
Gigabyte, verse the RAM
Be a mine, a digital discman, paper vs. the pixel
Aiyo, plick Nextel
Rips Van Winkle, spinning the spindle
The reaper telling Father Time, that's how I spritzle
This rhymes militant, diligence, my equivalence
No one, mirrored my existence
Like dinosaurs, Mighty Thor
Cause pigs are, types of boars
Nailed to the cross, fought other fake rappers since
Senor Cartarello used pins
Plan life injections, seventies revelations
Fangs strangulations, trials and tribulations
I love your kids, dad, do your biz
Never rat, God, create chins
Less than two ages, til we, blazing
Blazers, modern day, cut you with the razors

[Chorus: Crunch Lo]
We in the realm, taking the helm, getting gritty
Eight million stories in the butt naked city
We the chosen, golden, never ever fold
Under pessure, LST extreme measures

[Lighter Shade]
Fuck all the bitches, fuck all the pictures
I write scriptures, that leave eyes blitzing
Power moves, like Scottie felt ya, melt the
Making girls welt at a jezebel shelter
Whatever have been, to La Cosa Nostra
Beware of the brainchild of Oprah
What he'll do, to the paparazzi, kind like
What Hannibal Lecter did to Senor Pazzi
Wonder Twins, form of a roddy
Form of John Gotti, this kid's playing Gotti
Play with your kids on the carousel
The G-O-V-T, is Gargamel
Stamped out project, is Ave V-L
Goodbye sweet innocence of Ariel
Dope like Mike Jordan, come through this game
Like Flash Gordon, under the reign of God is scoring
Modern day Cleopatra, Lighter Shade, rapture
X-Men, the Next Factor...

[Chorus 4X]

1.4.0. Productions feat. Lenore, Shawn Wigs - Yesterday

[Shawn Wigs]
So we was bunk bed bro's, on prophecy
My physical and my life by three, a summertime baby
Seventy nine, hit the owl, Me, Chad, moms and old dad
Splurge on the lab, summer's was banging
Backyard, no courtyard, thank god, son, I made new friends
Til them Malboro projects, seen grams on the weekends
Times spun, from '85 to '91
Me and shorty had fun, son, we did what we done
Nights of '51, jipped be light on this cash
Fuck his fat ass, he smoked all the grass
Pool hopping, barbeques, a similar place in time
Where a dime was like six bones, quarter waters and snow cones
Catching late calls on payphones, yo, moms, I'll be home
In a minute, come home, and sneak back out
To Mike Chaos Jungle Juice parties in cold lakes
In the winters, kept my beard cold in snowflakes
And my diamond back moguls, little C-Wigs
On the loose, rocking my brother's old goose
And my Jordans, jeans, and earth worked at the factory
They laughed at me, but that's the way things had to be
The little dirty kid who cried in the tub
Talked back, slapping the mug, slept on the rug

[Chorus: Lenore]
Yesterday, all my trouble seem so far away
Now it looks as though they're here to stay
Oh I believe in yesterday...

[Shawn Wigs]
Son, I quote from the bricks, life's four years old
Thirty six months younger than my brother, I was bold
Ready for the likes of whatever came at me
I was happy, I learned big things from my daddy
Walked with a gangsta limp, from walking movies
Disrespect women for being around groupies
Soul in the Hole, with moms, played paddle ball
Left me in the park all day and broke a paddle ball
Little black boys, we chuck rocks and we threw 'em
Played rap music, grew up to be a true-in
1.4.0. stay beating beats on the table
We hip hop, three finger rings and a cable
Lounge brought the slang in my life, partying nights
Keeping it tight, we brothers for life
Til death do us, or them slugs run through us
We ready for the life and trials of Ray Lewis
My life showed me things I've never seen before
Hold the family, cuz I'm bout to run on tour
She my best friend lover, mother of my baby
Divine understanding the life, it's all gravy
Smile when you see me in the 6 hundr' Mercedes
Ten room mansion, she screamed 'I want babies'

[Chorus: Lenore]
Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play
Now I need a place to hide away
Oh I believe in yesterday...
Why things had to change, I don't know, they not the same
Time has, come and gone, now I long, for yesterday
Yesterday...

1.4.0. Productions feat. Othorized F.A.M. - Staten Islanders

[Lounge Lo]
I'm in the jungle walking barefooted, black jeans, black hooded
The Wild Beneen cat, that's how they put it
Is acting up again, ya'll niggas done fucked up
I started clapping up again...
I'm rolling with the O.T.F., got it locked, smoke bumps, stay pumped
It ain't hard, word to God
We gonna score whether you like it or not
Run in the block, with guns and take the spot
Snake fazini, doodoo head, snake benini
Try to go against the grain, I stands Lounge Mode
Everything is love in the club, we speak in codes
You fuck with my team, then I beat you oppose
Stay toppy in the zone, yo Wigs call Clocky on the phone
Battery back, no leaving 'em home
Ask the kid who fucked up, got his gear scuffed up
In two thou' he lucked up, see him on the knuckle up
Park Hill's baddest, top of the line
Block status, how you doing, and who you screwing
That's what they all ask, they see the Lounger
Up in the ghetto housing, right out of Shaolin
Universal traffic like D.L. and me to
Remedy Ross, the white Hebrew, what up, son

[Shawn Wigs]
Be easy with these slugs that can take your life
Look twice and both ways when you cross my mic
Straight shots, wreckless speed demons spit darts
Ten red light tickets and two, body parts
Arm and a leg, owe your rap career to a fortune cookie
Paid debts to the streets, paid debts to the bookie
Rookie of the year, soon as I emerge
Splurge before the deal, defition of real
Wigonomics taught freedom of speech like Dr. Martin
Luther King, black on whites, white on black bring unity
Make my whole community spaz...

[Chorus 2X: Lounge Lo]
Uptown, where you at? Brooklyn, where you be?
Yo, Queens, what's the deal? Boogie Down, how you feel?
Staten Islanders, Staten Islanders
Staten Islanders, Staten Islanders

[Crunch Lo]
Who that caught in the corner, thinking he live?
Cuz he smoke marijuana, I got some real niggas
That'll burn right on ya, for ya ice and ya bezzies
We the weight watchers and you like type heavy
But now you look frail, cuz them thoroughs do caught you
Stay happy nigga, cuz you lucky they ain't off you
Let you half live, Beneen the regulator
Illustrator, run in your legislator, you dig?
Molly, Lounge and Wigs, form the triangle
Mic cord strangler, that completes the rectangle
A manhandle tracks, it's me from B.O.
D to the Y, 10310, with a no worker flow, epilogues and episodes
With these out of town, iceberg down, hold that north book
Loving my style, Wild Beneen, making me offers
Escort the transporter, they say all you gotta do
Is give the order, we enjoy, impress your daughters
Verbal slaughter beats, forty calibur heats
My analogy, only speak to the streets
In the inner city we gritty, O.T.F. is the commitee
Epitomy of the game, ya'll niggas is shitty

[Molly-Q]
I swing with the Iron Fist Pillage, villain
Rainbow coalition hold spots, top division
We time life or death on an hourly test
Please shake an eye, symbolize, no rest
Molly Warbucks who burn the big ratchet
Staying deep, big shine, hats on backwards
Private session, come and test, true injected
Arch enemy, Wild Beneen, never guess it
Attack love promoter, the dart automatics
Top of the block status, thug like statues
O.T.F. tattoos, out of state, make moves
One two, my nigga third-fourth, we spark it off
Molikoff and Lounge Mode, we set it off

[Chorus]

1.4.0. Productions feat. Cheesey Rat, Crunch Lo, Diverse - Revelations

[Cheesey Rat]
What time is it, I checked the face on my wrist
Erasing what you missed, about face and backtrace
Black race, taught you this, who can afford this
Devils applaud this, who supported my final wish
Uplift, my Jungle movement, seems like I'm losing sight
Bruise the mic, righteous path, how many last
I blast this live, the world is the craft
How many bow to the most high, some all lie

[Diverse]
We all see too many dust nights, keep your nuts tight in ya sack
I'm in the fight for the right and exact, right in the back
Of your nap trap, I'm strapped to the fox, trapped on blacks
Jack in the box, worm rock the world, hip hop swirl
From Jericho to jheri curls, from women to girls
I'm reinventing war, then killing more poor people off
Don't call me lost, or call me last resort, avoid your ass
Caught in the force of the blast, it's so soft, it's so fast
Now fly away, Dive put the whole world on trial today
The new black holiday, the sole independence
My revelations, God revolution against Satan
It's the last of the peaceful administrations

[Chorus 2X: Cheesey Rat]
Revelations, see time, we waste not
Deep crimes on city blocks, peep swine and devil locks
On making this world stop, well aware, be awake
Call the mentally dead, not ready for what's ahead

[Cheesey Rat]
Dance with death, deep thoughts my last breath
Don't half step now, your rep cost you tied up
Open your eyes up, you wised up, too late
Maybe time for torture, Mr. Walker
Trap scorcher, nemesis enforcer, the author
Of these rhyming novels, weed, bottles
We follow, as I walk you through these halls of blood and mud
Thugs, sex, and drugs, we bugged out to most
I'm about to post missing signs, throw up the swine
Pass your family the shine, plus a letter you designed
And forget about the weak rhymes you wrote, these rhymes
Cause you overdose, that bring you back to life again
Frightening most, who hear us, fear us
And join us, what, you think these niggas had enough

[Diverse]
I don't gotta write this verse, it was already written
All I gotta be is churched, I was smirched by the living
Work daily towards the vision of Earth, in it's position
It's another missionary participant from wisdom
I'm an inkpen division, my rapture, keep your captivity spinning
Your X amount is interesting, go 'head you ask for starvings
Of mine and, if you know the word Benjamin
Crying cuz he grieving, son, now what are you believing?
And what do you keep your seeds in, what you feed 'em?
Do you know which season of water, and when to weed 'em
Perform on the disease of hell to make you sneeze
I do what, pray tell, you bleed, Duracell, squeeze gel
I had a revelation, I named epiphany
The first that was wet, has yet to get slippery

[Chorus]

[Crunch Lo]
The sky falls, dark and black, cracks in the walls
Verbal brawls, these days, you can life scroll
Ghetto sitcom, people big long, luck charm
Phenomenon, stay away from the girls with the bombs
I'm a writing don, Pulitzer Prize, got eagle eyes
Never really fall too far, I gotta rise
Shady rock head, blockhead cat, working with feds
Put me in a real big mess, clogging my head
Are you capable, able, to be my brethren?
And not cross me like Able, making bad deals at the table
Here's a witch, so I switched it up
Reluctant, opportunity knocks, yo, what the fuck?
Yeah, blowing not knowing, I'm incorporated
And all ya'll played out cats, need to get updated
I'mma slay it every time I lay it, straight up, laced it
Basic ass niggas should prepare for revelation