| '98 keep it real son cuz I guess I feel someday that
|
| Wild to the Child will rock at will son
|
| Keep them speakers boomin', body movin', Wild Child has proven
|
| Causin' mad paranoia like them kids Nice 'N' Smooth and
|
| When I flip flop, wreck shop, we be hip hop
|
| When you see me drop
|
| Always in that shape you callin' tip top
|
| Coolin, effect I’m full in, droolin over Madlib beats
|
| Yo, guess who’s pullin' plugs on thugs who’s greedy
|
| With their Wheaties, spraying rhymes like graffiti
|
| Formally known as the CDP Assassins
|
| DJ Romes is in effect and yo his ass is in
|
| Charge of the plastic
|
| Keep it real son, I guess I feel someday that
|
| Wild to the Child will rock at will son
|
| Got to keep it real son cuz I guess I feel someday that
|
| Wild to the Child rocks at will
|
| Watch ya front and back when M-E-D terror attacks
|
| With that rhyme that’s known to bring the Terrordome so freeze back
|
| On the microphone I’m quick to get with you then I’m twisting you back
|
| When you enter my zone, realize where you’re at
|
| In full combat, come prepared or ya better beware
|
| Cuz over here we bring the real, it’s like a style don’t care
|
| I’ll bust my rhyme into ya area, takin' over your spot
|
| And got it locked for the simple fact the rhyme don’t stop
|
| It’s worldwide when I’m riding on the crews who step to
|
| CDP Assassins, plus the Lootpack the crew
|
| We got the verbal mentality with them rhymes so ya listen
|
| If you feel I hurt ya feelings, then ya wack so I’m dissin'
|
| All you weak MC’s that fakin' there’s no justice or peace
|
| My rhymes will get into the middle of ya mind like smokin weed, that leaves
|
| Niggas in the state of only shows us what ya made of
|
| So put ya money down cuz lyrically I’m out to break ya
|
| Hey yo it’s Madlib the bad kid, back from outer space
|
| Still on that pure order MC master race
|
| But what comes after my rhyme styles irregular
|
| Modules predict antecdotes for underground hits
|
| But if you can’t catch it today…
|
| It’s probably too late, cuz we about to detonate the 388
|
| Relate the beat conductor, constructor, water loop to add pressure
|
| For every measure, you’ll need my anesthesia from catchin' amnesia
|
| You’ll end up with a seizure
|
| From steppin' not knowing the crate diggas is blowin'
|
| The spot, towin' this lot, empty cuz I got
|
| CDP Assassins plus the Pack, perfect combination
|
| Free improvisation, while I leave the next healthy wack MC
|
| Sick as a doctor’s emergency patient
|
| Yo I’ll be chillin', realize Oh be straight known to be that villian
|
| Ya that tall nigga to get up in that ass like pennecilin
|
| Bust the skills I kick the savage verbal lines that blind your crew
|
| Line 'em up and watch 'em fall, I be jukin' cuz you all can’t ball
|
| Relavent impossible mission, lot of y’all dissin'
|
| Elements unstoppable dishin', lot of y’all kissin'
|
| My ass, you know the flavor when I step upon the scene
|
| Yo I’ll leave your birds in rage like menstruation
|
| Seein' nothin' but blood when I step out the station
|
| Got your vocal fluctuating worldwide
|
| Be DVD set locate when I demonstrate up in a battle
|
| You end up in a suicide line, I’m beyond your mind
|
| You gotta recline and chill cuz I been past that bottom line
|
| Got Lootpack and the Assassins on the side
|
| Classic upon plastic when I break emcees down just like vlastic
|
| Cuz they speak the real but when the real comes, they still dumb
|
| Actin' like they know the half so verbally you gots ta jack 'em
|
| (What's your name?), Oh No, my niggas know the rebel hero
|
| When I come through wild to that level zero… |