| It’s all, it’s all becoming to clear to me | 
| There appears to be something that you do not know about | 
| Something about this music | 
| Somn', something about this music | 
| Still young but I’m old | 
| Pursuing the truth in goal | 
| Trying to produce from the soul | 
| Backing me is a force, my greatest resource | 
| So when you ride this rhyme you be the rhyme horse | 
| This rhyme is a compass | 
| Designating the direction of your mind as you want this | 
| The dope beats don’t cease | 
| Not for player haters | 
| But the appreciators of what we release | 
| Heavyweights will take a stand and show your flow is nice | 
| They’ll pass the mic like Montana would throw to Rice | 
| A prime from the mind to the wickedness | 
| They ride on the dance floor like the Nicholas | 
| Brothers, Tribe Unique discovers | 
| Different ways, visually stimulating displays of movement | 
| Groovy groovy slide, watch me do this step | 
| Let’s see if you can vibe to how deep does it get | 
| Emcees flowing deep and wide, deep and wide | 
| Cali earthquake impact when me and the beat collide | 
| Smack dab, dropping like a Reggie Miller clutch three | 
| Leaving emcees saying «Fuck me» | 
| Ooh, but don’t get vulgar just cause I provoked ya | 
| You’re all vultures, our music is the prey | 
| We do this every day | 
| You swoop down in your six-four | 
| Bumping ATU through alpines | 
| But please, time’s down, dogs up | 
| The Project Blowedians be the first to battle, that’s what you call guts | 
| Caps peeled back by verbal weapon | 
| You hear them tracks, feel back, you heard us flexin' | 
| Manifestation, switch the station | 
| To de-program the robots | 
| The ones who Acey calls Knownots | 
| Tell your whole block cause it’s the sure shot |