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Bootie Brown:  

  

 Let me freak the funk,  

 obsolete is the punk that talk more junk than Sanford sells  

 I jet propel at a rate that complice their mental state  

 as I invade their masquerade  

 they couldn't fade with a clipper blade  

 10 years in the trade is not enough, you can't cut it  

 I let you take a swing, and you bunted  

 for an easy out, I leave mc's with doubt  

 of exceeding, my name is Bottie Brown and I'm proceeding, leading,  

 they try to follow but they're shallow and hollow  

 I can see right through them like an empty 40 bottle, of O.E.  

 they have no key, or no clue  

 to the game at all, now they washed up  

 hung out to dry  

 standing looking stpud, wondering why  

 (why man?)  

 it was the fame, that they tried to get  

 now they walking around talkin about represent  

 and keep it real, but I got to appeal  

 cause they exisitng in a fantasy when holding the steel  

  

 Slim Kid 3:  

  

 rock a bye baby,  

 listen to my heart pumping to a fine ravine  

 of all things it's a vain of a shrine  

 all missions impossible are possible, cause I'm  

 heading for a new sector 365 days fron now, I'll  

 wipe the sweat from my brow  

 and each and every true will stick, or fall from the sky of my cloud nine  

 from homies all the way to chics, no matter how fine  

 cotrolling is a swollen way to wreck a proud mind  

 you hold it in your hands and watch a man start crying  

 tear after tear in the puppet man's hands  

 every time you take a stance you do the puppet man's dance  

 and the worlds at a stand-still  

 deep in broken mansville, trapped in the moat with an avil, still  

 killing yourself, and dogging ya health  

 you ain't amphibious, so grab a hold of yourself  

  

 Knumbskull #1:  

  

 shit is-shit is ill, my flow still will spill  

 toxic slick to shock you sick like electrocute  

 when I execute, acutely over the rythym  

 on those that pollute, extra dosages is what I gotta give em  

 got em mad and tremblin  

 cause I been up in my lad assemblin  

 misslies, to bomb the enemy  

 because they envy me, and the making of my mad currency  

 currently I think we're in a state of an emergency  

 cause niggas done sold their souls, and now their souls is hollow  

 and I think they can't follow  

 they can't swollow, the truth because it hurts  

 this is how I put it down, this is my earth, my turf  

 the worth of my birth is a billion, and you know what time it is  

 I'm going to make a million