[Refrain: Scratched KRS-One]
New types of verbal hip-hop I bring

[Senim Silla]
Here's that other shit that y'all ain't discovered yet
Yes, I'm running it, like the government
Hint, hint, Eric B. nominated me for President
And my pockets is holding treasury, every cent
These styles is unknown truth
Like where Clark Kent goes when Superman steps out the phone booth
Up, up and away goes the tape and show state
My mind and mouth should have came with a cape
And now Lois Lane wants a date
My fame rate's higher than my pulse, that's false
I'm so damn excited I made the Pointer Sisters silent
Make a pacifist get violent
The rhythm tyrant, Atilla the Hun
Hold mics hostage with a terrorist tongue
In exchange for a handsome sum
Going down like young guns in a blaze of glory before we're done

[Refrain]

[Senim Silla]
Rappers antagonists come to aggravate
Hip-hop herald of life, I actuate
My haikus increasingly broaden your IQs
I assess, so now I'mma test
Through the elimination process
Who can contest, working poetry in progress
Be it world tour or conquest
So I embark on this expedition
In Napoleon tradition I'm a small man with complex expositions
Marvel of exhibitions, can you stand the rain of this edition

[One Be Lo]
If you want to stay in the kitchen, quit bitching
Me and my henchmen, trigger fingers itching
Shoot the gift like Mitch Richmond
New inventions, my intention's
To take hip-hop to new dimensions
Did I fail to mention we wig-splitting
So all you Hip-hop heads probably need stitching
Tricky like Samantha Bewitching
MCs be wishing they could stop my flow
There's no prevention

[Refrain]

[Sample]
Tilt your head back and look at the Stars

[One Be Lo]
We back on the scene like herpes, stronger than Hercules
Able to rock crowds from nurseries to Universities
My beats and rhymes perfectly configurate like figure-eights
You would think the mic was figure skates
My soul on ice, Tonya Harding couldn't touch it
Pop it in your Benz or your bucket
Walkman's or boombox from the suburbs to Boondocks
From skyscrapers to Green Acres, hear my tunes knock
You name it, we done it
Strike the mic and keep it rolling
Like we bowling three hundred
Three fifteen, sold to the highest bidder
I flow like the Tigris river, I just give you
More reasons to call us your favorite emcees
Like Binary Star riffing rhymes over these compositions
You would do the same if you was in our position
But you ain't, so stop and listen
Platinum sales is not the mission
I seek and destroy my opposition
Including anything that make me not want to listen
Wack Emcees with they weak-ass discussions
So-called producers with they cheap-ass productions
Labels need to chill with they Clark Gable deals
I get down like people in tornado drills
So while you blowed away with the bull-istic soldier
I lay low, waiting for the winds to blow over

[Refrain]