[hook] I was born by the mighty Mississippi in fact, where the nation's most dangerous city is at, they say it's home of where the guns, thugs and drugs is at, but thoughts of my home, don't bring no bad memories back...[x2] [Space] They say it's St. Louis Blues cause it's St. Louis, Misery, so niggas off the court house steps, in my ci-ity. Lemme give you history: built on the banks of the shitty Mississi-ippi, cops watch the block so we get our money quick-ily, if not you get popped, and I do mean it literally. I'm talkin' to you straight, no metaphors or similes, my peeps in Atlanta, New York, I know you're feelin' me, dropped that lady in her own spot, popped in '93, pitiful life, shot the day before he tied the knot, widowed his wife, I know what it's like. Forever peace, Katt, I still ain't speaking on that, and fuck niggas who thought Committee'd be weaked by that, just stronger, so now, we go harder, more hunger, we stay at the table longer and eat like boss, so we was taught no manners when we was brought up, born as the nigga with the goal to get the dough and not shot up (click, BLOW!) [Toth] Put your sawed-off away Space! [hook] [JToth] When I heard the news, it was new to me. Is it true? Not likely. Don't a- gree what you see and less of what they write, most importantly, don't believe the hype. (Why?) I've seen my fair share of crime yeah, asking crack-heads for a dimebag, but it's really 'bout being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but if you're out in Kirkwood or Webster or west of Lind- berg and Manchester, I bet you crime won't catch ya. (Why's that?) I live in Brentwood, where the neighborhood's been good, a little too good. Cops make a livin' givin' tickets for going 1 over the speed limit. (Damn!) But I bet you think, they might just let you drink, in the streets since Budweiser owns damn near everything, that's cause they began in old bling, so they can get those things, well all except nose rings, and a West County Metro Link, cause that's a real danger, for some under cover race haters, suddenly your block's got strangers, and Northside's practically a neighbor. (Whoops!) Don't come 'round here, unless you drive the truck that delivers beer, and don't be queer, stay in the Central West End and don't come near. [hook] [break] M to the I, to the crooked letter to the crooked letter to the I, to the crooked letter to the crooked letter to the I, to the humpback to the humpback to the I done come from that side, of the Mighty Mississippi River, (St. Louis?) that's right... [x2]

[HOOK-JToth] We got that Good, Good, we got that Good, Good, we got that Good, Good, we got that Good, Good... [BRIDGE-JToth] Space is out to hit you with that fire dro, so, once you're Good, he'll kick that higher flow. Better to, pass that haze around, 'til you swim in that grey cloud, levitating and so Spaced out... Toth will guide you back in like the tower, sure, you'll fly-by for like an hour. Better to, trust that man from Hoth, he'll take you out a ways off, ridin' dirty, but your brain's washed... [JToth] Call us a living approach, within the city of Loc, where it's like fifty an 'O', if you like shittier dope. There ain't a sillier joke, it's more like really a choke, but when that's all that's going on, you'll be like, "gimme the roach." Kinda sounds like industry folk, who stick that shit in your throat, complacence on the rap stations and up in videos. It's a mystery though, how all that shit could be cold, like any wood from the hood, should ever get to be gold. Maybe I'm just getting to be old, but I want what's fitting to be told, so bad that I feel like a God-damn military man how I'm pitying these foes, everyone from 50 and his 'G' code all the way down to Chingy and his weak flow: when you stop making payments to God, your spot's finna be REPOed so, I got tired of watching grown folk blow their load, I got inspired to go and sew 'dro and grow my own, I got higher know my growing was showing them in sup- posed control, "Move over Mo, don't you know?" [HOOK] [Space] Space the Cashdronaut, the bigger Swisher twister, so high, I'm passin' bud to the chic on the moon from Miller, now I'm a introduce myself, cause y'all ain't familiar, I get go- rilla on the liquor, so I'm a Swisher kisser. It's the dealer of sensimilla, niggas know I got killa, still a seed and stick picker, while I'm blowin' on indica. This'll get you home quicker than that vodka and mixer, have you on the road trippin', and the cops come and get'cha. Yeah my dope be costin' a lot, I like to choke the smoke that make you cough and caught in a thought on whatever you call it, weed, green, rope or just pot, make the time go slow like when you stare at the clock. Homies that know me say I only blow the dodie, see me floatin' down 40, fast car, cat card, got a Cuddie, it's a oldie. Space, one of the great eighth smokers of the world partner, got that Uncle Tom, sell-out marijuana, shit's proper [HOOK] [BRIDGE] [HOOK]

[Space] When I was in the inner streets I was dodgin' the Po-Po, now I'm in this industry tryin' to stay off the ho stroll. Countless nights, it'd just be me and the track, pen and a pad in the lab with a blunt and a black, concen- trate, one take, no punchin' in that, old railroad nigga, I be workin' the track, be certain of that, murderin' cats and you don't want it to turn into that, too hard for radio, and I don't cuss that much, underground Love a nigga, but it ain't enough bucks, so this hybrid shit I spit is what the fuck's up so... Listen to this snippet of what you're 'bout to be gettin' like, twisted linguistics rip it, spit it with wicked vengance, most know my flow's the sickest, so no one go against it, the flow just so consistent, rock it 'til my non-existence, ain't gotta smoke or sip shit, run up on me, you'll get lifted, you want it come and get it. I'll even tell you where I'm livin', shit, I stay in a place called tear your ass to bits, and I'm darin' niggas to visit like... [HOOK-Space] Commercial might hurt you, could kill your street cred, under- ground keeps me down, but it don't keep me fed, tryin' to find a middle ground without losin' my edge, I'm tryin' to follow my heart, without losin' my head like... [SUNG-Lynn Jones and Toth] That old ho stroll... it's that old ho stroll... What'cha'y'all know, about the ho stroll? [JToth] I know a- lot. Shit, I grew up on this rock, not third from the sun, first one, like the disc jock, born a year after Kool Herc let the shit drop (1974), be- fore New Yorkers even had a clue they grew Hip Hop. Now it's not. Breakin' went the way of Roxanne Shante' and wearin' a Swatch wristwatch. It ain't for the DJ, they used to play the shit raw, exposing the Soul like a flip-flop. It might be final for vinyl, nearly extinct like the rhino, since the culture's kinda gotten more than primal, talk of kissing is soft like Lionel, Richie of course, it's been divorced, and if you smile, you're vaginal. I used to fight it, when I saw cats copy and bite it, or take a popular style and dick-ride it. I realize now though, it's only some music. Besides, ho's need Love too kid... [HOOK] [SUNG] [Space] But, I'm awakened to a new reality, live in a country built off war, oppresion and brutality, and money is the only principality, it's all about your hourly salary, poor are gettin' poorer, and the rich are gettin' cowardly. Time is money, I'll be two years richer, by the time I'm twenty-four, but in their eyes, if you ain't rich then you's a dummy though. Kinda makes sense, gotta pay rent. Space ain't comin' through your speakers, I'm just speakin' through your ventin'...that's it. What'cha'y'all know, about the ho stroll?

HOOK-Toth] Just give up, go home. x4 [Antonio] Hey kid. I gotta talk to you. You know things go the way they go, just because, that's just how they go, so…I got some bad news for you. Sorry kid. Wer're done. It's been one big party and lot's of fun, but ahhh, I see younger prospects, I gotta run, and in Case you hadn't noticed, you're not the one. It must be tough, yeah at least, but you're a smart cat who always lands on his feet. It was rough gettin' passed up by the industry, especially that one who said you needed a new dance routine. Yeah, I know, the Wop's classic, but I agree, leave the Robot in the past kid. You could've tried something new like that Snap shit, cause doing the Running Man was just asking to get your ass kicked. Yeah I know, I know, you're "Hip Hop," but there's a reason KRS-ONE's latest shit flopped. He still prays to the temple of "it's not… underground," in case you hadn't noticed, it's Pop. [HOOK] Yeah, you might want to reconsider your future plans, you know I happen to be a smart guy you know. Hey, consider me a friend. Just tryin' to help kid. [Space] You don't know where I been, you don't know what I go through, fifteen gettin' blowed while gettin' blown by a girl I just sold blow to. Yup, only nigga on the corner when the block's hot, standin' in a snowsuit.

[HOOK-JToth (screwed)] If youz a player and you know it clap your hands, If youz a player and you know it clap your hands, If youz a player and you know it, and your blunt is full of 'dro, If youz a player and you know it clap your hands, [x2 w/Toyy] [Space] If youz a player and you know, and your wallet really show it, make a stack out the trap, goin' clubbin' just to blow it, big pimper, stripper tipper at the bar, Rose Moet, yeah this grindin' keep me shinin', got my neck and wrist glowin', blowin' 'dro and gettin' dough, cause I'm playin' with pros, this the game that we chose, and we takin' it flagrant. Yeah I'm foul with flows, keep it crackin' in the club, no more snappin', I'm packin', so I'm clappin' on ho's. The Lou is back in control, they got my back in this hole. All you hear in the club is slurred words, "hrrs," "thrrs," "drrty" and "MO," two clean pistols, but drrtys I got thrrty or mo', player in the game, so you know how that go. Keep a game face, I go with no practice, so where's your money, like Busta and Bastard. Cats is hustling backwards, accidents waitin' to happen. Man you slowin' up traffic, so get clapped or stop trappin. [HOOK] [Toyy] Constantly I'm a player, my niggas know this true. A wasted mind ain't terrible, it got me playin' you, so I think I wanna thank ya, for the money, cars and clothes, the niggas and the ho's. Committee got it locked, we all players durin' the day, and we pimpin' when it's night, moldin' your mind like clay. Those who think that pimpin's over, they can all eat a dick, cause then they look around and wonder why they ain't got shit. The first lady, so I carries my load, and when a nigga play me dumb, I act like I don't know. After him I pull his bitch, he gone start lookin' at me strange, spit up all my slick and wicked, and my niggas run a train. I aim to please and that's why Jonathan did it. Space and Toyy finished it. It ain't shit without Committee. Stay com- mitted. If youz a player, go'on and clap your hands, pimps make them ho's dance and you haters take a chance. [HOOK x2] [scratches by HELIAS]

[Space] I’m on the road, thinkin’ how to get rich quick, and who I gotta get, to hit that lick. Now who I know, that done did it like this, that could spit it this sick? It’s the kid, don’t trip let’s take one, make some moves, keep cruisin’ ‘til the tape’s done. I’m facin’ a Cuban, blazin’ a new one ‘til I’m out of lighter fluid, born and raised St. Louis, ride and hang with the coolest crew it’s cats and the music, a bunch of hustlers, crushin’ the game steppin’ through, it’s hella single like tens and twenties, but we keep it movin’, not bi- lingual, you talkin’ money, we all speak fluent. Other- wise you can see us just ridin’ by, you won’t see us inside, just know we’re gettin’ high. What I smoke’ll make you choke, like you’re needed the Heimlich, ridin’ so high, I ain’t drivin’, I’m flyin’, I swear I’m a pilot. [HOOK] When I ride by high, what’s goin’ on? When I ride by high, I’m blowin’ ‘dro. When I ride by high, ‘dem twenty-foes. When I ride by, bye, catch up I’m gone. When I ride by high, what’s goin’ on? When I ride by high, I’m blowin’ ‘dro. When I ride by high, ‘dem twenty-foes. When I ride by, bye, hollar back I’m gone, like… [JToth] Jonathan Toth walks tall like a Sasquatch, when I ride by, y’all clock like a stopwatch, top notch tunes, with drop-top boom, skipping through Space like hop-scotch too. The turbo boost made in Colombia is burning, the M-ETH missile, made in Columbia Missouri. I’m not about rush that, what’s the hurry? Must be MAD, I’m like, what, me worry? I’m ridin’ dirty, and I’m white and nerdy, my lovely Goddess of a wife keeps me risin’ early, like the price of birdies, that great white hype surely like everything’s fine, then SURPRISE! You’re thirty. I’ll keep ridin’, long as my tracks don’t suck, long as my mac shows up, long as my flag goes up. Fuck it, I’m a ride forever, (Man hold up.) Yeah? (Not if the price of gas goes up.) [HOOK] [OUTRO] [scratches by Helias]

[HOOK-Abe tha Babe] Delmar and Eastgate, that’s my block. Morganford and Bates, that’s my block. Vandeventer and Page, that’s my block. What about West Florissant and Jennings Station? (What up fool?) Grand and Gasconade, that’s my block. Riverview and Broadway, that’s my block. Manchester and Clay, that’s my block. What about 55 and old Mark Twain? [Abe tha Babe] When you’re in these streets, you better walk a fine line, like hitchhikin’ north side toward Keinlein. I stay away from MLK durin’ grind time, un- less I need a sack that bad, I’ll pack my nine. I used to buy these pre-rolled blunts on DeTonty, but those G’s rolled weed on seeds, and tried to sell me crack an hour past dark though, then I got car-jacked down Tower Park Grove. On North Grand, them hookers shake your hand, and take you to their man to introduce you to the ‘wham-bam,’ Thank you ma’am, but I don’t slam dance, now I’m gone jam, ‘fore I lose my game like the damn Rams, besides, I sell music like Streetside, should I head west like Nelly in the meantime? Naw, I’m hittin’ 40, skippin’ these guys, maybe say ‘hi’ to my ladies on the Eastside. [HOOK] [Space] I push hard up and down Delmar, that’s my block. Green, white, soft or hard, that’s what pops, so fast cash and being harassed by cops won’t stop, gotta know when to mash the gas and shake the spot. The folks you see is products of their environment. Coke and weed is the product of this environment. Hopefully we make it out this environment, probably not we like glorifyin’ and kids be admirin’. It’s a vicious circle, they hustle so young O.G.’s is eighteen and twenty-one is retirement. Streets is blazed, even when the sun ain’t shinin’, blunts and guns keep firin’, crips and bloods is hirin’, cause crime is the only thing that keeps the paper pilin’ in. See me with Committee, they with me, nigga we’ll chop off your top, just to see an extra penny. Space the Cashdronaut, live and direct from the nation’s most dangerous city. [HOOK] [Mark Twang] What about him? You can’t see me, or can ya? Maybe if you head Westside with a camera. T’ain’t black and white like zebras or pandas. I moved here because of the better verandas, and a, real estate agent, kept to tellin’ me, “Stay away from the city pimpin’, are you smellin’ me? That Town and Country sun is too heavenly, and St. Lou is best viewed this side of 270,” but my brethren be stretched more than Quest now, from the north to east, west and south. Some are all talk, rappin’ like they’re just mouth, some are all walk and haul a body off, X’d out. I rep respect, cause it gone cost less than chin- checkin’ any new mark, steppin’ in my projects. Do you bleed blue? I do too peeps, do me a favor, toss that peace when I sees you.

[JToth] Got a block? Pack that hash up. See a cop? Better back that ass up. Nowadays, they flag that ass, cause they like rappers better when they're wrapped in handcuffs. The old school, could pass that crack up. Neo school, they "trap" that ass up. Old News? Yeah, the same sad stuff, but new boys in blue track that rap up. You ain't know? They drag that past up, like a vampire snatch that plasma, then they use it, to catch that ass, cause they bet you're riding dirty when they pass your black truck. That "Stop Snitchin'!" video was bad luck, (*see "Keep Talkin'!") cause half their asses got bagged up, LOOK! Keep rapping 'bout crack and mad guns, I'm not feeling sorry for a dumb-ass gangsta. [hook-Prodigy of Mobb Deep] Yo, yo, the Hip Hop cops, they out here, I just got to say that, Know what I’m sayin’? Gotta to bring that up, cause them niggas set me up…x2 [Space] I got word that money’s making you. Now when you speak, people see it’s all Big Bad Hank in you, you can’t even talk to ‘em, homies get un- grateful, never say thank-you but they’re always welcome, and all some do is wait to take from you. Shoulda known, soon as you’re on, friends is fake to you, homies get hateful, help the Feds make you, like “That second verse on track two, that’s true, (serious?) It’s on CD, but I can get the next one on tape for you, like it’s Pay-Per-View.” Your facing twenty-four years, like it’s twenty-four beers, they gotta case for you. Man they snakin’ you, they got a hold of your dude, now he’s a mole in your crew, and they’re controlling you. Your man rolled on you, but you floated too, so the outcome is the key witness is your album. [hook] Yo, yo…and forget your bro …once you get your dough, (ho!) When you’re ready to respect your MO, come to St. Loc, and you can kick it with the kinfolk. Let’s have a sit-down, get down like NY, Bed-Stuy, call it B.I.G. town, cause if you’re gonna make it this town, better break bread with the heads of the ‘in’ crowd, and not Feds with the big frown, in the van or the shed with the lead writing shit down. You’ll never get shipped to the ‘big house,’ you’re like the Mississippi, you got a big mouth. If you came through higher like Mike, we couldn’t even prove you were wired like mics. Sweat bullets, that fire like Mike-and- Ikes, better retire like McGwire and hide your life. [hook] [Space] Mean muggin’, ice grilly every thug in the city that’s dealin’, but they ain’t after ya, look at the eyes of those guys that’s dappin’ ya, same old folks you thought quote/unquote keep it real, drunk and laugh at ya, hope police start trackin’ ya, come and capture ya, they actin’ bruh, now you see the real meanin’ of trappin’ huh, loyalty’s supposed to make up for your lack of trust, but real nigga thoughts get lost during a bust, now he’s fessin’ up, cause actin’ tough’ll get him smacked up or slapped in cuffs, all he wants is to avoid the pokey, so he sings his song in an annoying low-key, there you go, yo, arivadoce.

[HOOK by QB of Family Affair (screwed)] Keep my paper receipt in case they try to come up to me. Keep my paper on paper, in case they try to come sue me. x2 [JBiggs] I got another thought, where the fuck is the paper? Baby girl, please do me a favor, kindly roll this in paper. Ooh-la-lah, grab a pen, watch me fly, type a guy, write a verse to make her twerk, poet from birth, leave it on paper when I leave this Earth, leading from leaders but a Libra first, speak, eat, get paper like church, dialect on paper shows my worth, gift and a curse, for most of my problems, the paper’ll solve ‘em, and Committee probably associates, probably won’t call him, nor involve him on a paper chase mission. Wanna sign me on my independence? Keep wishin’. Paper on my mind, so I got a paper vision, gainin’ paper abundance, within the paper collision, kinda reluctant to leave alone this penman’, leave my thoughts naked on paper, guess my thoughts trippin’. [HOOK] [Space] Pass the pot to Cashdronaut, blaze the place, then I’m right back to the paper chase. I don’t need rubberbands, I use paper weights, keep the cash for the grind, put the check in the bank, throw money for good times, check stubs for real estate, get out that apartment, get yourself some real estate, but you can’t if you make the mistake and you think that you ain’t gone give Uncle Sam his cut of the cake. They’ll send you to the pen, like you robbin’ with a gun in their face. This is fed not state, you’ll get ten, do eight, and you’ll spend all your ends just fightin’ the case, they’ll take ‘til your bank breaks. Man they can’t wait to rape, what you make if you don’t pay, so I don’t play, I’m ‘bout to get a Swiss account and some Florida estate. I ain’t talkin’ paper that you use for drinks and dates, I’m talkin’ ‘bout the ones you ink and date. [HOOK] [JToth] I been chasin’ it, like cats on catnip, makin’ it, back when it was called paprys, tastin’ it, like juice from the cactus, teleporting from the pyramids to Atlantis… Toth, but in another life sighting, my Egytian form invented the art of writing, now that’s a way to nail history slightly, leave a hellified paper trail like Bible sheets— smoked ‘em once, didn’t die, just coughed. Later that night, God said, “Knock it off.” I should’a listened, but I was all out of Tops. I rolled another and got banish-ed to Hoth. That was cool though, more time to write, freezing off my culo on all this ice. This time, it’s the Lou where pen lies, switchin’ up styles like Charmin to Wet Wipes. [BRIDGE] Chasin’ that paper, they’re chasin’ that paper with a pen, and hands are sore… Chasin’ that paper, they’re chasin’ that paper with the men, who have to score… [BRIDGE + HOOK]

[HOOK-Abe tha Babe] Haaaaaaaa! You know dem boys, throw dem bows, you know dem boys, throw dem bows too. You know dem boys, throw dem bows, you know dem boys, throw dem bows too. You know dem boys’ll throw dem bows up at your nose and maybe, dem boys’ll break it when they shakin’ shit and actin’ crazy, ain’t takin’ shit, just makin’ shit hot, and snatchin’ ladies. Don’t hate shit, cause they get, what they get, ‘til they quit. [Space] These boys love to throw bows, ‘til they’re feelin’ the arrows, so I’m a let these darts start to barrel through your apparel, these hollows might tear right through you, get through to your bone marrow, so quit trippin’, this is how you get rolled out, in a wheel barrow. All out on the floor, all out of control, throwin’ bows, scarin’ ho’s, that’s why you’re dancin’ alone. Was it Hen or Patron that put you off in a zone? Tryin’ to end your night with a fight cause a DJ ain’t playin’ your song? Punk, crunk, motherfuck, nigga what is you on? I just got a hot chic to rock with, she pop like a drop, but she had to stop, cause this slop nigga next to us kept tryin’ to mosh…she was all up under me, rubbin’ me. I knew she really wanted me, but this ugly, uppity, crunkity, clumsy motherfucker kept bumpin’ me, so when problems revolve, the revolver revolves, all cause because a nigga chompin’ his jaws, so if blood is drawn, then the problem resolved, cause I ain’t comin’ to brawl, so I ain’t touchin’ your jaw. Heat put him to sleep, tryin’ to play a big dog, got sixteen shots, and you’ll be catchin’ ‘em all. No security, you need to be callin’ Allah, have him haulin’ ‘em off, all because… [HOOK] [Space] I’m that impeccable, intellectual, money perpetual, freestyle extra terrestrial, 21-year old professional. My presence never felt in the room until I speak, incognito, undetectable style unique, stretchin’ niggas out. I hope you flexible, get disrespectful, show you how your style’s wreckable. Get crunk, I’ll make this bitch jump like you bumpin’ the table. I’m a thoroughbred homie, you ain’t even in my stable. I’m that cat that, taxes, waxes, knock a nigga off his axis, stick like cactus, face flew off the atlas, and I flip a, nigga, quicker than gymnastics. Get your ass kicked, get your loudmouth roundhoused straight into a backwards, give a nigga a boost without a mattress. That Goose got him loose, but he really just actin’, but my people ain’t scrappin’, we clappin’ so, security ain’t gone be stoppin’ me. We keepin’ it hyper than ADD, so tell me why niggas throw bows at me. I got a new lyrical recipe, takin’ my time, fast or slow, right to left, combos, lyrically ambidextrous, leavin’ ‘em restless in the dirt, now under the Earth is where you lurk. Whoa! Same beat new tempo. I light that ass up like a zippo, put a hole in your face like a dimple, leavin’ their face wrinkled, never know what I say next. I’m leavin’ ‘em bloody like Playtex, have you ride in the back of an ambulance, hah! [HOOK]

[JToth] This one goes out to my soldiers who might slip up once, everything’s fine until the next one comes, third time’s a charm, because it beats you up, when your hand can’t make it happen in the clutch. (guess what) Enzytes tonight, Enzytes tonight, don’t forget to eat your Enzytes tonight, Enzytes tonight, cause life is nice, and nothing sucks more than a broken cock.

[Space] I wanna speak to the boss, tell the middleman bye. I know he ain’t the guy cause his ticket’s too high. I’m surrounded by hustlers, even my ho’s sell. We sell at wholesale, you resell at retail. No trip, don’t trip, we from the STL, money spinnin’ like Spreewell, stay low from Po-Po pass go, skip jail, pick up the dough, fishcale by the bale, and you know we got ‘dro, you can tell by the smell. So we eat like beasts, out the pot, no plates, and we move hydro at high pace on high ways, it’s high stakes, this high grade got high rates, in a drought, we hydrate. Man listen…so we eat like beasts, out the pot, no plates, move hydro at high pace on high ways, it’s high stakes, this high grade got high rates, in droughts, we hydrate… nigga… [HOOK-Space] Toth and Space straight basket case, you trippin’ we kick in and blaze the place. I’ll shoot you in the face, shoot-shoot you in the face, shoot you in the face, shoot, shoot you in the face. Tell your gal back up, I don’t want to waste. Tell her, get on her knees, so I can shoot her in the face, shoot shoot her in the face, shoot, shoot her in the face nigga, shoot, shoot, shoot her in the face. Yeah, Toth and Space straight basket case, you trippin’ we kick in and blaze the place. Yeah, shoot you in the face, shoot-shoot you in the face, shoot you in the face, shoot, shoot you in the face. [Space] Won’t stop rappin’ ‘til I see my face on every page in the newsstand, beat an emcee ‘til he bleeds blue, make him a blues fan, cause music’s how I eat man, pasta and lobster, you come crowdin’ my plate, yeah it might just cost ya, you’ll be catchin’ more heat than Mike Piazza, on the mic I work witchcraft like Frank Sinatra. Oh these bullets in this gun? No I don’t mind dumpin’ ‘em out, and I keep my kicks scuffed, so I never mind stompin’ you out, punkin’ you out, weak nigga what you jumpin’ about? When problems revolve revolvers revolve, all cause because your chompin’ your jaws, so blood is drawn—problem resolved. My burner presents evil. When I shoot, duck. Don’t shoot ducks, but I will bust a Desert Eagle. I’m lethal, send shots through your Regal, spit sick shit, with quick wit, that’s how I make hits. Got more guns than that white room in the Matrix. Space kicks and packs heat, so act sweet. Attack me, I’ll push you to your back seat, five holes in your face like White Castle meat. Who fuckin’ with me? Shoot you in the face chump. [HOOK]

[hook-JToth] Push her out, shove her out, waaay out, Push her out, shove her out, kick that bitch out. Push her out, shove her out, waaay out, Push her out, shove her out, kick that bitch out. [JToth] She’s a dog unpredictable as the ocean, she’s a hog, so greedy, she needs a roastin’, she’s a smog, on land suffering erosion, but she’s a thought and sad excuse for an emotion. It’s difficult to notice when she’s gotten in you, until your bulk of focus bends because of influ, the sick can sulk and throw the sin right off the Hindu, but it’s some hopeless shit to cry for rotten mildew. Meaning, don’t give the bitch so much power. She’s teething, and won’t live to see the next hour, but seeing a rope, she’ll climb into the highest tower, and have a meeting with your insecurities and devour your power. Suck it down her throat like semen, she’s not the first flower to emasculate the He-men, but she’s been in business now for thousands of weekends, and seems as if she won’t quit, or even weaken, a little bit. Likes to bring things of insignificance, petty shit, like “remember when you were a hypocrite and said you only had sex when you Loved your women friends?” Yeah bitch, that happened years ago, didn’t it? “Yeah, but it’s what I’m about lately, since you can’t afford to house me, or our baby, that you made me have. What, sound crazy? Well I’m that one problem that eventually found Jay-Z, cause they can run, but no one can hide, from me, cause they done done what no bum can deny.” That seed that begun dumb, was strung into a vine, the weed that some love, because it lets ‘em lie, about the real reasons that they feel this way, cause wow, just like seasons, it seems that they can change, and sprout a new legion of beliefs to keep the fray, so now it’s truly treason if the bitch decides to stay. Hey, it’s not only chics. Guys don’t think that just because they fit, you can hide behind the shrink wrap. Ever the itch to snitch and spill more shit, whether it’s bitch or dick, it’s still horseshit. It’s a lie, white, just like porcelain. It’s a side right, just like more spin? And if politicians have one thing in common, they know how to play bitch instead of face a fuckin’ problem. Just give us jurisdiction to keep on bombin’, since we’re pissed really cause of Osama Bin Laden. It’s his fault, all of it. He’s the one blame, but even after he’s gone, the bitchin’ remains. It’s strange, the bitch is like an unseen enemy, like the bullet missed by the thugs keepin’ Kennedy protected, but she’s never been caught, wear a vest kid. Remember, she never gets got, she gets elected. [hook]

[INTRO-Shaun] [JToth] Taking over this game ain’t easy, especially when you gotta start it from scratch, but takin’ over this fame shit is easy. Give me a light, and I’ll spark that match. It’s not really like I’m takin’ it from you, I was hopin’ that you’d sort of just lend it, But now I’m feelin’ like death could become you, And since you left, it wasn’t yours to begin with. (Next!) Keep tabs on the industry. Fiber-optic cameras stretch from Dip Set to Dr. Dre. Keep my informants list locked away when I hit the streets. Do it by memory, that’s how I operate. Infiltration, get the information, return to station, await a consulation for interpretation of how a payment, presented for the duplication of some music, leads to a cushy financial situation. Cause nowadays those digital sales come around my side of the town, like cats to fishscale. It’ll be well for those of us who use electrical mail, for those who don’t, you’ll fade like Galadriel. [BREAK-Shaun] [Space] Takin’ over this game ain’t easy, it’s greasy and nasty, sleazy and trashy, you really gotta want it, gotta show it in your savvy, you know it, when I’m flowin’ every bar’s so swaggy, with a drive for the money like a cabbie. I need every cent, stretch a brick ‘til it’s taffy. Now I put the hip hop in shink wrap, not zip-locks and baggies, but you can still get at me. Taking over this game hella quick, niggas spit the same shit, clips, broads and whips, but this is a bit more vicious like Mike Vic trained pits, Visegrip, locked the game. When the majors pick me up, I’ma hang, break the chain and the charm too. Nigga, I meant to alarm you. Space’ll blast off. Yes, I’m armed too, hunt for food for thought, but the game’ll starve you. [BREAK-Shaun]

[Space] It’s kinda odd how these pussy niggas claimin’ the best, and every rapper claimin’ God like they’re David Karesh, and the rest be reppin’ sets, I ain’t tryin’ to claim nothin’ but a motherfuckin’ check, and I’m a keep the respect, so any rapper wanna battle, that’s a motherfuckin’ bet. Got war wounds and stories, so you’re dealin’ with a vet. Put the razor to your face, like my name was Gillette. I aim at your neck. A pro with the flow, from the S-T- L-O-U-I-S, ahhh yes, I damage your set. The newest nuisance out St. Louis, but smoother than two masseuses and a crew that gets the loosest, eatin’ through you niggas like brown recluses, the truth is we ruthless. I run with a crew of cats, that’ll go through a SLU of cats, (oops) I mean a whole WASHU of cats, and a flow so cold, that they say I got the flu with that. [hook-Space] You’re listening to the illest, so I know you gone feel it so, pour yourself some liquor. Fuck it, drink it out the pitcher. I’m sparkin’ up the illest, so I know you gone feel it so, pack another bowl(?) NO! Roll another Swisher. YEAH! Refill it, spill it ‘til you motherfuckers feel it so, stop actin’ blowed nigga, put down that bowl nigga, grab a couple Swishers and we fill it ‘til we feel it, fill it ‘til we feel it, fill it ‘til we feel it… [Space] I got lines so dope, they say my rap is spoke in coke, over beats that blow harder than purple ‘dro smoke, with this chapter seven flow, cause I’m goin’ for broke. These niggas bread crumbs and cut soap, cause they sure ain’t dope. I’m a young Louie cat, can’t claim no coast. Committee Gene, Clue and Los…I’m with the same old folks. You run with more closet fags in your crew than the Pope. Yeah I’m full of punchlines, but this ain’t no joke. When I flow I come to kill it, niggas know I rape and pillage. How I know you gone feel it? Cause you listening to the illest. Is you listening to the lyrics? I master the track before the engineer hear it, (Take two?) shit (One take!) Work a beat Sunday through Saturday, attack the beat savagely, rapidly, rip it ‘til it’s raggedy, tactical strategies, actual tragedies, countless casualties, killin’ emcees who battle me, finish ‘em, flowin’ fatalities…who fuckin’ with me? [hook] [JToth] I grab a track out of the pack and peel it back. I split it with precision like pitchin’ that skips a bat. I dump all the junk seen in sausages and brats and re- fill it with a schilling full of heat…now rap that track ‘til it’s packed as fat as some savage African packaderms, and if you match it, I bet’cha that’ll burn, but if you’re lackin’ the frag, I bet’cha that’s the germ, and if you’re actin’ the man, I bet’cha that’s a perm. I bet your mad cause I checked you that fast, but I let you get away to get straight, no checkmate. Next time I’ll call your P.O., to keep you checkin’ in, if and when you rhyme, and I don’t feel shit like MF Grimm, (Finish him!) like the blunt my verse was starting with or Johnny and his Cobra Kai in the end of “Karate Kid.” My chopsticks got fly, so ‘domo,’ and drop-kicked you in your own sty, no home…ohhhhhhh. [hook]

[SPACE] Bring a helmet if you’re coming, man you know I’m a rider, twenty- two with no priors, so I still be wilding. Doin’ forty over the limit while blowin’ and holdin’ a quarter of fire, cheersin’ to Anheuser, thanks for the Bud- weiser. I can get no higher. The crippy keeps me sleepy, flowin’ the hypnotizer. Pro with the flow. I’ll damage ya amateur, old riverboat gambler, known blow handler. I be disceet when I speak on the streets, so be a code scrambler, long as you get the picture, and I don’t need a camera. I’m tryin’ to get money homie, I don’t want no dra-ama, so if you wanna problem, I’ma let the llama put you in pa- ja-amas, pa-artner, sneak in the back, put the heat in your back, I’m from the streets where if he say he keepin’ the peace, the peeps is strapped. Prada shades, all black locced-out, oversized frames, you can’t see where we aim. [hook-TOTH] I gotta, you gotta, we gotta get over every now and then… We gotta get over friend… I gotta, you gotta, we gotta get over every now and then… We gotta get over, everyone is in. [GENO] Tax free… I don’t need no introduction to this, it’s against my religion to be cuffin’ a bitch. Want beef? You can guzzle a clip. I got ‘lil niggas that’ll merc you for a couple of cents. Got put on at thirteen, and been hustlin’ since. I can never ever see myself trustin’ a chic. Better get your money man, custom your whips. In- vest in some hard, and wait ‘til it flips. Nigga play me, then I’m sinkin’ his ship, put that thing on his lips, if he tryin’ to play gangsta and shit. My cousin died livin’ off that reputation ya bitch, and I’m a live longer thanks to him. I made it to see twenty-one, gotta give thanks to him, the man above, made me have faith again. Down bad, didn’t think I’d see cake again, for that shit, I gotta give thanks again. [hook] [J-BIGGS] Supplyin’ through the drought, grindin’ lazy niggas pout cryin’ cashin’ in without signin’ to a label. Fuck marketing plans, schemes, selling me dreams. How you gone do it? Uh-uh, Committee be the street team. The distribution’s solidified, treat the rhymes like a nine to five. Make ‘em think of me a rapper or something, correction CEO controllin’ the function, gettin’ more than dollars…whatever I want. Blowin’ the skunk, bully in this businees, Ashton Coucher couldn’t even punk. What you’re ‘bout to witness comes from meditation like a monk. Got the key to suc- cess, gratefully blessed. Y’all is a mess, waitin’ for a deal, stressed. Take two shots to the chest, down with hip hop, everybody’s sellin’ rocks, either that or bustin’ glocks. Me against the world like Pac. Don’t need nobody else, cause I think outside the box. [hook]

[hook] It's hard to believe, there's nobody out there. It's hard to believe, that I'm all alone. It's hard to believe, there's nobody out there. It's hard to believe, that I'm all alone. [JToth] Well that's life, right, like rehab, or doing time after you decide to be bad as a man, with no plan to kick the habit? Been hunting trouble, since Elmer Fudd been hunting silly wabbits. What a tangent, using the excuse of me to manage it. If i'm all alone, I'll handle it. Party hard, even if it's just me having it. Nobody saw that trick, but I landed it, damn it! So what's the hold up? I thought when you're grown up, you got to do everything you noticed that you couldn't do as a youth, shouldn't do was the truth, cause now that urge needs some attending to. That's why I smoke, "They" told me not to. That's why I'm broke, pain's holding on too. Am I water or a lonely piece of dog doo? What the bleep do we know, dude? [hook] [Space] Lonliness can drive a man to insanity, and solidarity’s a sure cure for vanity. That’s just one of life’s lessons, that’s why I press for perfection, when caressin’ and blessin’ the session. I keep a pen and a compass, cause I write with direction, aggression brought by depression, got me makin’ music, kickin’ confessions. Expression exudes that I’m stressin’. Some fools’ll do anything to allude some corrections, (no notes and no lessons) reckless negligence, drivin’ with drunken helplessness, suicide is just selfishness. Now I’m just hella pissed, clenchin’ my fists, cause life is filled with envy and jealousness, (what is this?) plus the only thing that seems to be soothin’. The shit’s so confusin’. Man, life starts to get fucked up when I count the partners I’m losin’, doin’ stupid shit out of anger, wired up like a hanger. Danger’s the only thing we headed for, tryin’ to be gangsta. I’m Spaced out, so I stay blazed out… [hook] [Tucker Booth] Hey what’s goin’ on baby? I know we’ve been having hard times lately, but I promise you, everything’s gonna be okay, I promise… I don’t know where I’m goin’. You keep runnin’, I keep hidin’. I just wanna be with you, but you don’t even seem excited, So I just keep holdin’ on wonderin’, what’s become of us? Baby you just don’t know what you do to me…