Car

Skills airtight like a zip lock
Body rocker dropper on the kick knock
Four elements to the flip flops
Nothing more hip hop than rappin bout hip hop

My flows whiff of wickedness, vocabulatrix limitless
I’ll pound a primitive clown to insignificance
Drown a diminutive and never admit to it
Won’t own up to the major sins or any little bit of shit

Soft kids get pistol whipped and dog walked with witnesses
By lifelong recidivists who never go legitimate
Just for the click of it, poles and positions in
Starter pistol popped and it locked the conditioning

All good infantry, hungry for hood infamy
Cooler than your common sense, couldn’t find the bitch in me
Take the time with indigenous history, the miseries
Disasters from the devil’s ministry of dark mysteries

What lingers? Paper tigers turned Cringers
Wrappers off the Zingers, eat em with lady fingers
Canned cannibal dinners, throne of skulls to the winner
Stretch with young bucks to keep limber, Timber!

Chop fall set flips to drop drawls
Peter panty peeler had em down by law
With the art of jabber jaw, honed via slammer scrawls
Bass man Dapper Dan with his jabber paws

Scratch if it’s itchy, cross fade it back in a jiffy
You can catch a quick cross hook if you’re lippy
Born Slippy only made sense that one time in the dorm trippin
Next day hair of the dog born tipsy

Hand on a fat ass like a rapper Tom Petty
Another dude’s girl, I was beyond petty
I would fuck your girl, I was beyond sleazy
We were all young hoes and it was way too easy

Hand on a fat ass like grabbin the horizon
Carpe diem, launch to new environs
Chain smoke, Diddy said don't stop supplyin
Slashed ourselves on the rocky crawl to the sirens

Dominance asserted cross continents, wonder where the
Objects went, corn field buzz bomb a moderate
Forget about your problems, sit with polar opposites
The world’s full of shit and we’ve got a lot of it

Cypher

Yo
I brake hopes, take throats and scrape notes
I can ape quotes off an educated rote
Self medicate and soak, elevate the scope

Run rambunctious slay simulants by the dozens
ATM warbots storebought by the dozens
Stay scared shitless cuz the end of times is coming

Slaves to new systems fear collapse of the infant
A two digit difference and it won’t go the distance
It will all crash into dust in the finish

Giant mechs cities wrecked, catch it all on VHS
Forbidden tech spins cassettes, samplers vivisect
Reading recipes, misstep to disrespect

Faux paw, false flaggin role call, cold claws
Sabre rattle anthems put stress to known flaws
Brothers of the banner still follow old laws

Given in the desert, visions in the measure
Infinite potential with no limit to the treasure
Sittin unfettered in stolen war feathers

An odd approximation from recorded observations
Purported conversations in a sordid modulation
Stories gain support until they push the obligation

One way or another, Sunday service with the brothers
Undercover thugger when it’s all guns and butter
What the hand of man has done is rent asunder

Tres, tres, tres
Tres, tres, tres

Basement

The Return of the rhythm ripper, Mr Wahl clipper
Find a fire loop and build it a perfect slipper
Old sound Cinderella, still got the stickers
Experiment will all kinds of weird shit as MIDI triggers

Messageboard, messageboard, give me some tips
Sound nerd community, zips of one hits
Stacks of burned CD-ROMs full of drum rips
For MPCs or ACID, two cooks for tough shit

Pollen of the Flower of Life, engineered by
Legendary weaponeers empowered by spice
Assassin in a dowager’s life, trained in ancient
Deadly arts and endowed with a mind like a knife

So Let's cut to the premise, Young Money gettin lettuce
Dude talked about a chain but ain’t seen a dentist
No chance to prevent it, earned it after he spent it
And now Young Gummy cant even stomach lettuce

All in for irony, we get it all with piracy
Don’t ask for receipts, I wouldn’t ask you to lie to me
Do it for the pioneers, the Crash Crew Dynasty
The old time emcees who didn’t die violently

Took all their rage and kept it in the rivalry
Cipher society had rules of propriety
Designed to be a future of self made notoriety
Skills make the man, a battle plan like sobriety

Radio

Yes yes yall, and ya don't quit
And ya don't stop, makin hot shit
Yes yes yall, and ya don't stop
And ya don't quit, real hip hop

You heard it on the radio, breakbeats on the radio
You heard it on the radio, happy scracthin on the radio
You heard it on the radio, happy rappin on the radio
You heard it on the radio, happy music on the radio

You heard it on the radio

Temple

It’s been 20 years since I was 21
First learned to hack a page source for fun
We all looked to Main Source for drums
Edge of the future the next had begun

Life off Diversey, Brown Line to Blue
Korean BBQ to quesadillas for the crew
Cheap beer cheap smokes weak hopes sneak
Like a card in the bike spokes rattle for the new

Dollar bin grabs cheap vinyl by the foot
Music education while we diggin for the hook
Read everything I could, did it by the book
Scrapin beat tapes together, do it for the look

Last of the actual cassettes, real time sets
Tiny little mixer with the cords to the decks
More bass more thump floor bump war
Had begun, everyone runs for the number one

Up and down this dark city, Alexander Proyas
College kids Cub Foods, gettin it with Goya
Screams of machines that will come to destroy ya
Round out a decade of fear and paranoia

They got X-Files on everything, mountains in Montana
Behold a Pale Horse, bodega propaganda
Strawberry ice cream, grays in the cabana
Tin foil hats with that Freemason grammar

Early morning local access, beer on the mattress
Out of town DJs killin ears with theatrics
Better let’em have it, triumph to the tragic
We tell our own stories, sciences established