Mr. Len, a.k.a. Space Ghost, please intro Company Flow, perform, J-Treds, El-P, prepare, you approximately five minutes Fuck the bullshit, Time/Warner fall labels will fall, the Earth will crumble
[El the all city access and encounter the likes of these Regionally no one relaxes, No wonder I'ma type to crush contenders with chewing satisfaction Pervade your with the back of your whole mediocre faction Sonic boom head zoom contact off Elbowed with a vacumn pure death MC's with closed up in the willows, catch the whirling dervish Or the dead and dumb millenium is at your Flow the plaque, instigate lyrics then backfile MC who thought cause he was dipped in powder blue he could rock past-el Got your hip-hop essence out of the Cross catalog with technology Ask L. Ron Hubbard to break down my Fuckin up to the chest I bust insidious, Bad Boogie to to bumrushin Fresh start taming this track achieves pain crack and AZT couldn't relieve Being Sizzlean I will trim the fat like Susan Disrespectin like cap, lickin off shots from clocktowers Play ring around the nation The situation, situated to see-saw creation are helpless like Gadzook keep faggot like RuPaul troop to the new sensation fuck whole wannabe gangster fascination The is broke, or cock albums mispoke And got the El P cards stuck in they bicycle spoke For VH-1 crystalized pseudo rip flows Let the liquid talon soak into the seam of coat Meet the professional dead or politrick technician neck capital P for the deep throat dickin I was that first monkey to touch the Monolith, Up in that crack like white for the weekend and I sunk Battleship Parked in a hot zone, to the E. Bola Manifest brain tumors through the phone as you roam in Motorolas
All hail, J and El the fans rise, we got the grand Foes fantasize runner up, the they can see it because skills so lenient I've been boastin with half a They can't handle the whole son, diagnosis, bullemic believe it My best line, too advanced for Pop you got cornered scouting report, can't in the clutch But when I get down, third and inches threatenin to score How you gonna tackle the topic when you at two-hand touch We're too damn much for defense break you down, zone weakens Words bring embarassment, Captains look like third in comparison to this too well known to kick fat And beat suckers up and down, Tic-Tac-Toe Game over when I blow your mind, but I aimed over explosive cuts flamethrower, serving roasted nuts as after battle you wish you wore a cup in your panties So all you in this rap game, time to up the ante What's your Big time skills or small penny Dead to latter my varsity letter, fatter than JV Only play with the big boys, toys that weak shit Before the I hit em off with fat, ladies latest release on cassette They were done the start Ran for the finish got detoured the fast route by another One spot hold ground for our town, N.Y. For who don't acknowledge they get left ass out plumbers
Congratulations Len, you made it halfway They are falling, their are retreating The job is not over, you continue, please move forward El P, bring out tactic evasion, start, summation now Do not fail us, we're on you
[El For thoughts I see hot three males with a cot included Where the Sidewalk Ends and all your linear math gets when he Star Spangled, packed a brand circular medicine and deject Fuck and it's affiliates, for runnin that wannabe Big Willie shit Leave those clothes up to the Pope List all personal posessions in liner note While I connect wreck genuinely cuttin through red ropes Son grip the love spigot, yeah the ticket This pop 99 Luftballons While the one hit blunder rushes exhaust like buses I bond, like resin cause for the of skill, lost and found Found by DNA patterns to wish you could Just a girl around the way of my set, that's the time Enter the evil opus, on rap scrambling Record labels to expect not reaction is bad I know a few true make we, collusion El P and pentrate cranial intrusion
We do this one time so catch it, two of the illest and Lethal seperate but combined, friction created a frontline a Got you steppin, tryin to us bustin caps in your thoughts But now crossfire catching's to your job skills top of resume Submitted applyin, for lyric positions that we occupied but got the pink slip, labels on not think shit Requiring, brain absence lobotomy reigns/rains, That trap gets full, by J and El tactics Our equations infinite, punks distortin random Havin half words recyclin tracks like plastic, forfeit Flippin the same script, I it has reinforcements, or else it's to pieces while our thesis is untouched Saved on my PC under the filename of bumrush, by one punch, upon my keyboard My data's the top secret that mad will fiend for Come from the last to be cut Dream Team Three We be the ones who shine, for butt, kickin Rarely benchwarmin throwin down, all too While barely touch rim and that's when they're butt licking
Done, job well They who we are, they know we know who they are They will fall, they are going to have to Understand, they will no longer will fall, I'm proud of you, come home