Chorus:
  
   The concerto, of the desperado
   R-double-O-T-S check the flow
   If you know like I know then you know the motto
   That's all the fraud shit got to go/fake shit gots to go
  
   Verse One:
  
   In the glow of the moon, over the melancholy metro
   My poetry is set like a U.F.O.
   The maestro, the lyricist concerto
   My physical play the role of a vessel
   The level of my lyrics law manifesto
   My thoughts wrestle and attack with the killer instincts
   of a gorilla stronger than Samson
   Without vanilla my soliloquoy profess my ability to just
   stimulate you like the best sensimilla
   The halflife the Illadel-L-P-O-phila proceed
   hither is my death flower blow your tower to smithe-
   -reens to fiends catch another rhyme gripper
   Deeper than the meditations of a hidden worshiper
   Unorthodox, hip-hop, minister
   Then a Serengeti cheetah my thoughts with the
   you lose your balance when the sound hits ya
   So check for the, fifth militia
   A poet's under pressure stressing that you get the picture
   Even if it means you gotta hang over the banister
   I pull a microphone on any pistol brandisher
   And take advantage of ya because you amateur
   Styles gunning down your sound man and manager
   What?? This how we do it in the year for nine-six
   With this delivering attack on pointless rap shit
   Breakin MC's down to fractions, tell your squadron
   It's time to go to war we spar reaction
  
   Chorus 2X
  
   Verse Two:
  
   The implorer, the universe explorer
   Treat MC's like the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah
   Leavin these niggaz open like a box of Pandora
   With styles that's newer than the world order
   Approximately three quarters of y'all are water
   I straight deport ya
   Then orchestrate your torture with roots of culture
   The pill brimmage to the line of scrimmage up against your image
   Where life is a heist, and the strong get a percentage
   It's ill as a war and within it I'm the Lieutenant
   that surrounds you like a peninsula to snatch the pennant
   You fold like Japan's futons and fans
   While I design a plan to make a rapper step like a pedestrian
   I crush a mountain into grands of sand
   Your pain stains the cannon of the mic inserted into the stand
   The desperado, that refuse to follow
   The lip afficianado, break you up into parts like a bottle
   I deep like the dark of the night
   Niggaz is sweet and sound silly when they talk on the mic
   They use the simple back and forth the same
   old rhythm that's plain
   I'd rather UltraMagnetize your brain
   It's the hip-hop purist, that leave you lost like a tourist
   inside the chorus, niggaz is bringin nothin for us
   As we breakin em down to fractions, tell your squadron
   It's time to go to war we spar reaction
  
   Chorus 2X