Yo, when the bass thump, the place jump
Like it's way crunk, yeah
Fake punks get they face lumped
Sent to the most high, by the most fit
You gotta do, fuck that almost shit
The fam is close knit
You diggin', know the clock don't stop tickin'
Glocks still spittin', the whole block politickin'
Like presidents with they minds dead on arrival
Leaving no evidence of a struggle for survival
Songs relevant to the times like the psalms read in the Bible
Stepping to this leaves thoughts in your head 'it's suicidal'
It's the T to the A-L-I-B the deep rooter
Rolling with my wanna battle cats who chief buddha
And see through the overspecialized, underpressurized
No lie texturized, emcees who got the masses mesmerized
With empty rhetoric, they better quit
Niggas so hollow that they echo like sentiments