| Is this fast or normal speed? | 
| Yea, knawsayin?, yea, Table of Contents | 
| F**kin wit it, one two, it’s the Table of Contents, come on | 
| Uh yea, uh huh, yo | 
| Check it out, you’re now intuned to the sounds of the | 
| R to the, double-O to the, T-S and I stretch limit to this profession | 
| My voice physically fit, tracks I’m bench-pressing | 
| The mic chord is an extension of my intestine | 
| Delicate MC’s sliced in my delicatessan | 
| My mind state is that of the S-P | 
| Connection, Pennsy a part of me, South Philly through my arteries | 
| Thought the dark one, fearsome, slump son | 
| My vocal just a knuckle that sucker punched the drum | 
| Hip-hop yo that’s my hustle and it kill a kingdom | 
| That Fall Apart to drastic propor-tion | 
| Lost ones out there, you better stand clear | 
| The Fifth Dynasty, it be a world premier | 
| Cuttin through like attorneys at law that’s car chasin | 
| You star gazing, the force y’all facin is the | 
| R-to the, double-O to the, T-S an' | 
| Y’all niggaz in the mix, keep guessin | 
| The world traveller in the flesh without question | 
| Last seven years on tour without restin | 
| Yo the kind of rapper you should reconsider testin | 
| Supreme simply, o-fficial Dundee | 
| What I bring’ll motivate to move your whole country | 
| Throw your hands up if y’all want me to proceed wit | 
| And carry out strategic plans to leave wit | 
| The title that I’m watchin, Roots we run-ting | 
| My Dundee atire for MC hunting | 
| Step up and out the ring | 
| Y’all niggaz on some other, y’all loud as Don King | 
| But wine drink within the danger zone lounging | 
| You need to be more aware of your surroundings | 
| Reality at times is astounding enough to get your heart pounding | 
| It’s safe to assume, in all confidence | 
| That I’m one of the illest in the seven continents | 
| Yo, you on my dick, thanks for the compliments | 
| You be f**ked up by my Table of Contents *begins fading* | 
| Bad Lieutanent, you I been rhymin since | 
| The f**kin past tense, f**k no delayin | 
| Or playin taking your wing way back in the day of yo | 
| Motherf**kin mind | 
| (Part Two) | 
| (Malik B) | 
| It' the R-to the, double-O to the, T-S an' | 
| Yo yo, it’s the R to the, double-O to the, T-S an' yo | 
| When I strike to excite, I just aim, I never miss | 
| Embrace you wit a hug of death, give your ass a slight kiss | 
| Toxic words that spill over pages, for ages | 
| Impacts like M-16's to twelve gauges | 
| The rage is still in me, never act too friendly | 
| Scully down creepin while you tilted off Henny | 
| Many man begin pure but in this world of sin your | 
| Holdin tight my mor-al by in-jure | 
| We scramble, because this game life is the gamble | 
| Vandalize your terrain, go against the grain | 
| Invade your brain wit the collision causing division | 
| Sweep your sector, leavin you niggaz for stool-pigeons | 
| Sweep your sector, leavin you niggaz for stool-pigeons | 
| Sweep your sector, leavin you niggaz for stool-pigeons | 
| My religion is a way of life, but the trife replays | 
| 'cause niggaz actin shiest these days | 
| Wagin wars, usin dynamics 'cause I’ma slam it | 
| You talkin all this out out your mouth, you satanic | 
| Roam the planet, always takin bullshit for granted | 
| Just a cool type of cat but you still can’t understand it | 
| You told to sit back, stand still and chill | 
| Niggaz bound to clap shots 'cause they all act ill | 
| Wit a sour-ass taste smilin up in your face | 
| I’m like trust, never leavin no trial or no trace | 
| Disappear wit the wind,? | 
| shows the discipline | 
| Twenty-five years of my life I learned to? | 
| miss amend? | 
| Peep the structure of a whole empire | 
| Smuggled sealed tai, pack lyrics like Kya | 
| Verbal messiah, when I cross I set a fire | 
| Wacker MC went in doubt 'cause I’m for hire *echoes* |